


First Year

by whisky_and_jazz



Category: Outlander & Related Fandoms, Outlander (TV), Outlander Series - Diana Gabaldon
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, College Life, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, More Fluff, lots of fun here, more smut, only a little angst and drama to keep things interesting, professor life
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-18
Updated: 2021-03-05
Packaged: 2021-03-06 03:28:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 66
Words: 100,413
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25976704
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whisky_and_jazz/pseuds/whisky_and_jazz
Summary: First of all- Please don't be put off by the large number of chapters that are accumulating. I drop tiny little chapters midweek, so that means the chapter count is higher than another fic of similar length.Claire Beauchamp is the newest faculty member at Leoch College in upstate New York (USA), following her dreams of a new career after her divorce. She meets Dr. James Fraser, director of Student Academic Support Services, and they spend the 2020-2021 school year navigating the various twists and turns of their own new relationship as the year unfolds.This fic will follow a typical American academic year in real time, but the best part is that there is no Covid-19 in this universe- only typical college shenanigans, with just enough angst and drama to add some spice to the story. We have enough stress in our lives right now. This fic will help you escape it all.  Leoch College is in the Eastern US time zone and updates will follow that time zone.Follow me on Twitter! I'm Newbie Becca   @Avg_OL_fangirl     I post mood-boards for each chapter there.
Relationships: Claire Beauchamp/Frank Randall, Claire Beauchamp/Jamie Fraser
Comments: 4183
Kudos: 1008





	1. Orientation: August 18, 2020

**Author's Note:**

> This marks the very first chapter of my very first ever attempt at writing fanfic. I plan to add to it in real time as the academic year progresses. We start out in August 2020 (the time of this writing), but expect homecoming, breaks, midterms, finals, and all the rest to happen just as it would in real life without a pandemic! There are no Zoom meetings in this universe!

[ ](https://ibb.co/BZntfsf)

It was a Tuesday in mid August when Claire walked out of the post office after picking up her inter-campus mail for the first time. Stepping outside before opening up the most important envelope, she paused on the sidewalk outside the student center as she scanned its contents.

“Bloody hell,” Claire muttered to herself, looking over her assigned classes. “Bloody, bloody hell…”

“Ye sound a bit stressed. Can I help?”

Claire looked up to see a smiling face with stunning green eyes and long red hair looking back at her.

“Thank you! I’m fine, really. It’s just this class schedule. I think I’ll need all the help I can get, but for now I’m headed to new employee orientation. I’m Claire Beauchamp, Biology,” she said, extending her hand.

“Geillis Duncan. I’m the campus pastor. Nice to meet you, Claire. Can I join ye? We’re headed to the same place.”

“Of course. Thank you, you’re very kind. Campus pastor? I didn’t think Leoch was religiously affiliated?”

“It’s not, but we do offer spiritual services for students. I’m trained as a chaplain to support the student regardless of belief system. I do pastoral counseling, crisis intervention, meditation groups…that kind of stuff. Personally, I’m Wiccan.”

“You’re a witch?” Claire blurted out, regretting her faux pas immediately.

Geillis laughed. “Well, yes I am, and proud of it. We Wiccans are reclaiming that particular term. Wicca is a nature-based faith. We’re very connected to the natural world and its cycles. I run a monthly open group on the full moon. You’re welcome to join us if you’d like. I promise ye won’t be burnt at the stake.”

“Good to know, and thanks. Maybe I will after I figure out how to actually do my job here. I trained as a botanist, ethno-botany for whatever it’s worth, but they have me teaching a first-year seminar on social justice. I have no bloody idea even where my office is or when I’ll be issued my laptop, much less how to teach anything on social justice.”

“Ethno-botany? Ye work with plants and herbs? Sounds downright witchy to me. No worries. Ye’ll be fine with the seminar. They always stick the new faculty with the first-year students. It’s more about encouraging good discussion and getting them adjusted to college than it is about pouring a lot of information into their heids. Ye probably know a lot more than ye think. Come on, ye can sit in the front row with me. I’m giving a wee talk to the new hires. Trust me. Ye’ll like it here once ye get settled. The administration is not too bad as administrations go, and the faculty will be happy to help ye out if ye need it.”

They sat down in the front row of the small lecture hall together and chatted more while they waited for orientation to start, with Geillis enlightening Claire about the culture of her new home. Leoch College was about as Scottish as a college in upstate New York could be. Founded by immigrants in the 18th century and heavily endowed by their descendants, it had a tartan of its own that was emblazoned on every scrap of literature that went out from the admissions office (not to mention every scrap of fabric in the gift shop), a bagpipe marching band that played before football games and even a special haggis dinner at Homecoming every year. The college recruited Scots for positions in the administration and faculty, and offered scholarships for students who minored in Scottish history or took Scots Gaelic as a foreign language.

“They made me such a terrific offer that I had to hop across the pond to accept it,” Geillis continued. “What I’m wondering is how an Englishwoman wound up here? Ye’re welcome of course. No hard feelings for the wee stramashes over the centuries. We’re all friends now,” she said conspiratorially lowering her voice at the ‘no hard feelings’ part.

Claire laughed at that. “I worked as a nurse for years, but after my divorce I decided to change course and pursue my passion for botany. I went back to graduate school for my doctorate, then applied everywhere I could. On top of my unusual background, I’m a bit older than the usual assistant professor. Leoch was the first place to take a chance on me and offer a job, so here I am. Not exactly much of a plan, is it?”

“Och, ye’ll be fine. Plans are for the timid, not brave lasses like us.”

The orientation began with a string of speakers from various departments, welcoming the new hires and handing out brochures about everything from the retirement plan to the parking permits. Geillis gave a brief overview of the spiritual support services offered on campus, inviting the new hires to spend some time in the Zen garden if their stress levels got too high. Claire’s head spun with so much new information, all of it seeming critically important, and she made a mental note to visit the Zen garden as soon as her schedule permitted. After two long hours, the last speaker took to the podium. Geillis leaned over and whispered to Claire, “Now here’s one Scot who’s easy on the eyes if you go for the ones with the Y-chromosome. Personally, I stick with the lasses. My partner is Louise from over in the finance department.” Claire didn’t have time to respond before he began to speak.

He was tall, towering over the others who had preceded him on the stage, with wavy auburn hair tucked behind his ears and startlingly clear blue eyes. He wore khakis, a blue blazer and an official Leoch College tartan tie. The blazer strained over his shoulders a bit, hinting at the muscular frame beneath. His large hands held his notes, and he smiled with practiced ease at the assembled group.

“I’m Dr. James Fraser, Director of Student Academic Support Services, but you can call me Jamie. Welcome! I’ve been here at Leoch for the past 8 years. I started out as faculty in the Languages Department before taking over as director of SASS. My assistant is handing out information to you about the services we offer, but the information is on the college website too. The most important thing for you is to know that myself and my staff are here to help you with any student concerns you may have. If a student is struggling for whatever reason, we’re here to help. We can also support you, the faculty. We’re here for you as much as for the students. If ye need any help with setting up yer courses through the online portal, or help with a particularly challenging student, we’ll help get ye sorted. My office door is always open. Feel free to drop by anytime.”

Jamie scanned the crowd as he spoke, his eyes making contact with Claire’s before he went on to describe the various services offered by SASS, but to Claire they all sort of blended in to a sort of acronym soup, with letters floating, separating and recombining into new configurations with the stir of a bureaucratic spoon. After he finished speaking, Gillian waved to Jamie and called him over.

“Jamie, this is Claire. She’s new in the biology department and an Englishwoman! Here at Leoch, can you imagine? You two should… och, you’ll have to excuse me. I need to talk to Colum before he leaves. Talk amongst yourselves!” And with no further explanation and a flourish of her hand, Geillis was off at a jog chasing down the president of Leoch College. Jamie chuckled before turning back to Claire with a wide smile.

“She’s a feisty one, Geillis is. Great with the students, though. They all love her.”

“I believe that. I may take you up on your offer to help. I’m feeling more than a little overwhelmed right now.” Claire said, a bit sheepish.

“Och, totally normal. Ye’ll catch on in no time. The first year is always the hardest for faculty. I’ve been there myself. Where’s your office, with the rest of Biology or have they put ye somewhere strange? They do that sometimes, if space is tight.”

Claire wasn’t sure, and flipped through several papers, searching.

“Lallybroch Hall. Second floor. Room 208 I think?”

“Mine too. Lallybroch is the main academic building on campus. Most departments are housed there. I’m on the third floor, right above ye. All the SASS services are on the third floor. Can I walk ye to yer office?”  
Claire agreed, and the pair set off across the quad to Lallybroch. After a long moment of awkward silence, Jamie spoke.

“It’s obvious that ye’re nervous, Claire. It’s written all over your face, but trust me. I know ye’ll be fine. Truly. By the new year, ye’ll feel right at home.”

“I wish I had your confidence. I know botany, but I don’t know anything about how to teach a first year seminar, or how to be an advisor or even where the bloody copier is! It will be a miracle if I make it through the semester. You’ll be sick of me pestering you by the time it’s all over.”

“I don’t think I could ever be sick of you, Sassenach,” he said offhand, glancing at her sideways with a half-smile that made the butterflies already in her stomach from orientation suddenly feel like a flock of starlings taking flight.

“Sassenach? What’s that?”

“Och, just a wee nickname for an English person, an Outlander. I meant no offense.”

There it was again— the half-smile, the side glance...

“None taken.” She smiled back at him, suddenly very much aware of the sheer size of him as he opened the door to Lallybroch ahead of her.

“Welcome home,” he said. “Most new faculty tend to live in their office. Sorry. Wee joke. Ye said second floor? 208?”

She nodded, and they walked up the stairs together.

“Ye have yer key?”

“Somewhere in here I think,” Claire rummaged around in her purse, her hand eventually emerging with a loose key.

Jamie raised his eyebrows at her, and held out his hand. Claire placed the key in it, wondering what he meant to do. He reached into the bag that held his various brochures and information, and brought out a Leoch College key ring, the type of swag often handed out for free to prospective students (and new faculty).

“Here,” he said, threading the key onto the metal circle. “A loose key is guaranteed to get lost, and then ye’d be fashed. There ye go. How about a keek in that office? I don’t remember what 208 looks like.”  
She nodded, and he opened the office door, stepping inside.

“Not bad,” he said. “Not bad at all. Ye’ve got a nice sturdy wooden desk; some of the offices have cheap, ugly metal ones. And a window! Christ, when I was first teaching, I had an office with no window at all, down in the basement of this very building, over the boiler room. It was like an oven, hotter than hell even in the winter and no window to open for relief. Ye’ll do fine here. Get yerself a coffee maker, put up some photos of yer family and ye’ll be all set.”

“I don’t really have any family.” Claire realized what she’d said a split second too late. It wasn’t the sort of thing she usually disclosed unless it was to a good friend, certainly not someone she had just met, but leaving the words hang in the air seemed to make things even more awkward, so she quickly elaborated. “I lost my parents young, and grew up with my uncle. He’s gone now too. No siblings, so it’s just me.”

“Ye ken that ye can create yer own family. Family doesn’t have to mean blood.” Jamie spoke with such gentleness and compassion in his voice that Claire was taken aback. Her eyes caught his, holding his gaze a moment longer than was necessary. She swallowed the lump in her throat, nodding, eager to change the subject.

“Are you helping with orientation for new students too, or just employees?”

“Aye, students of course. The best part of this job is interacting with new students, helping them find their way. The first-years will arrive next week. They get 5 days of orientation before classes begin.”

“Five days? How much can there possibly be to tell them that would take up five days?”

“Students have a lot more fun, ye ken. We mix in a lot of team building, get-to-know-you stuff. Picnics. Games. We even take them kayaking on the lake.”

“Okay, now I am jealous,” Claire said, pouting just a little for effect.

“Are ye interested? They encourage faculty to come to these things, but not everyone does, especially the kayaking. My old department chair, the distinguished Dr. Murtagh Fitzgibbons, once managed to tip over his kayak into about two feet of mud near the edge of the lake. He had to walk back to town covered in it from head to toe. That was the last time we saw him at first-year orientation.”

Claire couldn’t help but laugh at that.

“I promise I’ll be extra careful.”

“Well then, I s’pose that means ye’re coming wi’ me.”


	2. A Wee Walk: August 24, 2020

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The first year students have arrived, and Claire joins Jamie for a day of kayaking. Afterward, they take a wee walk and he gives her the scoop on who's who at Leoch.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you everyone for your kind words on Chapter 1! It means a lot, especially since this is my first effort. A couple things you should know: 
> 
> 1) I'll occasionally post a mini-chapter in order to keep with my real-time timeline. Sometimes they'll be a surprise, but sometimes not. Today the first-years are beginning 5 days of orientation, which will end on Friday night with convocation. You'll get a mini this Friday night! 
> 
> 2) Leoch College is in the Eastern US time zone, so that's the zone I'm working with when I post. Today looks like a hot day in upstate New York, but no rain thankfully, so these kids can go on their kayak trip. I aim to keep things as real as possible, so watch out for things like weather (or even moon phases) to affect the story. Leoch is of course fictional, but for weather purposes, I use Syracuse NY as my reference point. The moon is the same everywhere. I think this will add a layer of unpredictable fun and challenge for me as a writer. Of course, reality has its limits, and there will NEVER be ANY Covid-19 at Leoch! 
> 
> 3) Right now, this story is rated T. It will be going up to an M shortly, and eventually to an E. If this isn't your cup of tea, don't say I didn't tell you. There are plenty of wonderful fics out there that might suit your tastes better, but this one will eventually be E.

“Sassenach!” Jamie called out as he saw Claire walk towards him at the lake. He was wearing gym shorts and a slightly too tight Leoch College t-shirt that stretched over his shoulders, and was surrounded by a crowd of first-year girls who seemed to hang on his every word. Dozens of kayaks were laid out on the grass for use by the new students, who were divided into groups to rotate through the various activities of their orientation week. Jamie jogged toward her, a wide smile on his face.

“Ye came!” he said, slightly breathless.

Claire brightened at the sight of him. She stood the tiniest bit taller, her smile broadened, and her shoulders released tension she didn’t realize was there as she relaxed into the conversation.

“I did! It sounded like fun, but I don’t see too many faculty here. I expected a bigger turnout.”

“Weel, the faculty crowd at events like this skews young—mostly those who don’t have tenure, ye ken. Participating in freshman, och—sorry, I mean first-year, orientation always looks good in the tenure portfolio. The single ones also come, mostly for the free food. If ye’ve got a family of yer own at home, spending an evening paddling around wi’ a bunch of yer students doesn’t seem so appealing.”

“I suppose that makes sense, but I just thought it sounded fun. I’ve never kayaked before. Any tips for an amateur?”

“Avoid the mud near the east side of the lake. Ye can ask Murtagh about that,” he said with a smirk.

Claire laughed, recalling the story he told her earlier about his mentor walking back home covered in mud.

“Och, it’s no’ hard. Easier than a canoe. More stable, ye ken, a lot less tippy. Once ye’re settled, the paddling is a piece of cake. I’ll help ye get in, then when ye’re a wee distance out from the shore, experiment a bit to see how to steer. Ye’ll pick it up in no time.”

As the students began to launch into the lake, Jamie held a kayak steady for Claire as she climbed in. He handed her a paddle, and gave the boat a shove until it floated free. Claire paddled tentatively, but as predicted, quickly got the hang of things and ventured out into the open water.

Over the course of the next two hours, they paddled around the calm lake, enjoying the late summer sun shining on the water. A few leaves had barely begun to turn, and the goldenrod was in full bloom, announcing that fall was near. Jamie would often paddle off to talk to a group or to engage with a lone student who seemed not to have found any friends yet, always returning to Claire after a few minutes away. He pointed out a great blue heron feeding near the edge of the water, along with a group of deer who peeked out at them from the woods. Glancing over at a dead branch poking out of the water, Claire saw something that caught her eye.

“I’ve never seen a bald eagle before! Do they come here often?” she asked.

“Weel, seeing as this is yer first time in America, I got one to come here special, just for you, Sassenach. It is the national bird, ye ken.”

Claire’s laugh was answered with a smirk and a wink.

“Aye, we see them a lot. We have a few nesting pairs every year. It’s quite grand to watch them raise their young. We should come back in the spring and bring some binoculars so I can show ye.”

Claire smiled as her gaze held his. “I’d like that.”

Eventually, Jamie beached his kayak, climbed out and pulled it ashore while Claire waited in the water. He then pulled hers onto the gravelly launch point, and held out his hand.

“This is the tricky part. Hold my hand and swing both yer legs over one side, then stand up. Don’t worry, I’ve got ye.”

He held one hand, and then both, steadying her as she stood up. He kept hold of her until she was safely ashore before reluctantly releasing her.

“Thank you for a lovely time. I really enjoyed it,” Claire said. “I’ve got brunch with the board of trustees tomorrow, and somehow I don’t think it will be nearly as much fun. Will you be there?”

“Aye, I will,” he answered.

“Anything I should know about the big wigs before I go?”

Jamie glanced around. The students were beginning to disperse to a picnic dinner, accompanied by their upper-class peer leaders. He waved at several of them before turning back to Claire.

“How about we take a wee walk around the lake and I’ll fill ye in on all the critical bits?”

He steered her away from the bustling hive of students, toward a wide well-marked path that circled the lake. They walked in companionable silence side by side for a few minutes until they were out of earshot from the crowd still lingering on the shore. They were close enough that she found herself very much aware of his height, the breadth of his shoulders, and the length of his stride. She noticed that he had shortened it unconsciously to match her own, and the thought pleased her for reasons she couldn’t quite explain.

“So, what do I need to know before going into the snake pit?” Claire asked, turning toward him and flashing a cheeky grin.

“Och, it’s not so bad. At least ye’ll get board bacon for yer trouble.”

“Board bacon?”

“Aye, that’s what we call it. A wee joke. When there’s brunch for the students, ye get decent food from the food service: eggs, hash browns, coffee, aye? The bacon’s thin and usually overcooked, but when ye brunch with the board of trustees, ye get quiche, croissants, an omelet station, and thick cut peppered maple-smoked bacon that’s always perfectly cooked. Board bacon. The students have no idea.”

“Good to know,” Claire laughed. It dawned on her that she seemed to laugh a lot when she was with Jamie. There was an energy between them—a hum in the air, a resonance— and it was growing stronger by the minute.

“The trustees themselves are a mixed bag. Mostly, they’re good folk, alumni usually, successful in their ways. There are a few ye need to know about—the power players, ye ken, and a few more ye’d do best to keep distant from. Those are the bad apples,” he said emphatically.

She paused, taking a deep breath before plunging in with a question, resigning herself to dealing with people and situations fraught with the politics of academia. “So who’s who? Who are the powerful ones?”

“Aye, those are the ones with money, the big donors who have buildings named after them. Ye don’t want to get on their bad side, or they’ll find a way to derail yer career, or at the least cut yer budget. Clarence Sandringham, he’s one. Old money. A little schmoozing goes a long way with him.”

“Duly noted.”

“Then there’s the Camerons: Jocasta and Ulysses—they’re married, and they’re both on the board. Ye’ll have heard of Cameron Hall? The new student center, aye?” She nodded and he continued, “They dropped a pretty penny to build that. They own several wineries around the Finger Lakes, and made the rest in the tech boom of the 90s with some strategic investments. Rumor has it that Ulysses knew Steve Jobs from way back and got into Apple stock early, but no one really knows for sure. Colum practically stands on his head to keep them happy. He’s alright, but she’s one to get her nose into everything. Loves to micromanage. I’ve heard their daughter is a new student this year but I havena met her.”

Jamie went on, “Keep away from Phil Wiley. He’s got a reputation for being a bit handsy with the ladies. Social climber. Slimy bastard. Och, and Louis Fitzroy. Another bastard. Unbelievably arrogant. Full of himself. Thinks that every time he takes a shite he deserves an award. Or at least some applause. He’s also been known to be a bit too friendly if he takes a shine to ye. We call him King Louie, but never to his face. The rest are nothing to worry about, just decent people trying to serve their alma mater. Leoch is a small school, so it’s personal for them.”

Claire stopped on the path, turning to Jamie. Her brow furrowed, as though mentally making a list to carry with her into the brunch. “Let me see if I’ve got it: Sandringham and the Camerons are the big money, but Wiley and Fitzroy are the rat bastards. Don’t worry about the rest, and be sure to enjoy the bacon. Did I miss anything?”

“I think ye’ve got it, Sassenach. I told ye that ye’d be right at home here.” He glanced over to her, a half-smile on his lips, and there it was again, a little stronger, a little bigger, a little more there. She smiled back, then quickly glanced down suddenly very much interested in a chipmunk scurrying across the underbrush. They circled around the lake, then went to join the picnic, more than a little late. The buffet was picked over, and the lemonade empty, but neither of them cared as they ate their dinner together, talking about nothing in particular.

*****

The next morning, Claire arrived at the trustees’ brunch with Jamie’s warnings fresh in her mind. The seating was assigned, with the new faculty scattered around the room, mixed in with the board members and various administrators. To her chagrin, she found herself seated at a table with the Camerons, along with another new hire and several people she’d never met. Jamie was at a different table, on the far side of the room. She caught his eye, and he nodded toward her companions. She answered with a raised eyebrow of her own before sitting down. She didn’t have much appetite despite the presence of the much-lauded board bacon, and nibbled instead on a croissant and some fruit salad, accompanied by some surprisingly good coffee. It occurred to her that she ought to ask Jamie if there was such a thing as ‘board coffee.’

The conversation plodded along, with Claire trying her best to make appropriately non-controversial small talk. She found Ulysses easy to talk to, and they slipped into a discussion of the Cameron wineries, much to Claire’s relief.

“The whole Finger Lakes region is perfect for vineyards—best wine on the East Coast. World class stuff, really. You should try some of ours,” Ulysses raved. “We produce mostly whites. We always bottle a special Reisling with a Leoch label and sell it to the college. They serve it at Homecoming, but other events too. I’m surprised you haven’t seen it yet.”

“I’ve only been here a couple weeks, but I’ll certainly look out for it,” Claire replied.

“Colum is ridiculous. He keeps calling it his ‘rhenish’—that’s an old fashioned name for it—and joking that it’s his personal vintage.”

“I haven’t really gotten to know Dr. MacKenzie yet, but he sounds like quite the formidable character...”

“Dr. Beauchamp, is it? Biology?” Jocasta interrupted, changing the subject. Claire nodded to Ulysses and turned to his wife. If ever a woman embodied the word ‘matriarch’ it was Jocasta Cameron. Throughout her conversation with Ulysses, Claire had been very much aware of her presence at the table. She was dressed to the nines in a suit that was undoubtedly the work of a designer Claire had never heard of, her hair perfectly coiffed in a chic French twist. Her jewelry was understated, the choice of a woman with no need to advertise her status. She radiated power held in check by propriety. Ulysses matched her in that respect, but seemed much more approachable and less intimidating somehow. Her perfectly manicured nails tapped the table.

“Yes, but please call me Claire.”

“Claire. Yes. It’s come to my attention that you’ll have our daughter as one of your students this semester.”

“I’m not sure. Possibly. I’d have to check my class list.”

“Oh, you do. I’m sure. Phaedre is our only child. She attended Choate Rosemary Hall for high school, so she’s used to…personal attention. I trust she’ll get that here as well.”

“Of course. I plan to give all my students personal attention. It’s my job.”

Claire felt as though she were a zebra being stalked by a hungry lioness as Jocasta looked her over, top to bottom before speaking.

“You’re a lively one, aren’t you?” she finally said. “Well, I’m sure you’ll do your best. I may check in with you now and then, to see how things are going for Phaedre.”

Claire nodded, uncertain of what to say.

*****

“She canna do that,” Jamie said as he and Claire walked out from the brunch. “She canna just call ye up whenever she wants and ask ye about her daughter.” He had caught her eye as things were breaking up, and the two fell into easy conversation as they left the room. “It’s illegal. I’ll send ye a link about FERPA. It’s the privacy law. She canna talk to ye like she did with high school teachers. They’re over 18 when they’re here, legal adults, ye ken. We canna tell the parents anything.”

“What am I supposed to do then? She seems to expect it, and from what you told me, crossing her is the last thing I should do.”

“Dinna fash, Sassenach. Ye’re not alone in this. I’ll have a wee talk with Colum and we’ll help ye handle it. He’s been managing Jocasta for years. Let’s cross that bridge when we come to it, aye?”

“If you say so…”

“Claire, ye needn’t be scairt of anyone here, no’ even the fearsome board of trustees,” he laughed. “Ye’ll be alright. Truly. We’ll figure it out.”

“Thank you, Jamie,” Claire answered sincerely. It meant the world to her to have a friend here. She’d been alone for what felt like forever, especially since the divorce and her return to graduate studies, navigating the politics of the academic world on her own with varying success, but here with Jamie, she felt like she could relax. She could simply breathe for the first time in a long time, as a deep sense of trust settled over her like a warm blanket. She looked up from staring at the pavement, and found a pair of ocean-blue eyes looking back at her, their corners crinkled with a smile.

“It’s my pleasure,” he replied.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! 
> 
> If you want to follow me on Twitter, you can find me as Newbie Becca @Avg_OL_fangirl That's my fan account- 90% OL- 10% random 
> 
> I'm not on Tumblr. Sorry!


	3. The Gathering:  August 28, 2020

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's convocation day at Leoch College, and Claire is noticing one particular colleague.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the first of likely several mini-chapters that I'll post over the course of the academic year. Since I'm telling the story in real time, sometimes dates might bunch together because of the nature of the calendar. This is one of those times. Orientation is over, and convocation takes place today. The students start their classes next Monday. Expect the next full-length chapter Thursday or Friday next week. 
> 
> With this chapter, I'm moving the rating to an M. Eventually it will be an E. If this isn't your cup of tea, there are many lovely G-rated fics out there, but this won't be one of them. 
> 
> Note for non-US readers: Colleges/universities in the US often open the academic year with a ceremony called "convocation" where speakers welcome the students and try to offer inspiration for the year. Some are very formal. Others are much more casual. Not all require signing an honor code like Leoch does but many do. Sometimes this is done at convocation, or it may be done at another time. Traditions vary from place to place.

Orientation week for new students was drawing to a close, and it was time for the formal ceremony that marked the beginning of the academic year: convocation. It was the occasion when new students signed the honor code pledge, promising integrity and honesty in their academic work, and was infused with a considerable amount of solemnity and tradition.

In her office, Claire groped for the third time to find the hook at the top of her robes onto which her long, draped hood would attach. It was supposed to hang down her back, but unless she could get it attached she would be choking on it all evening. Finally, she got it hooked and arranged the hood so the folds showed properly. Next, she put on the six-sided tam hat, adjusting it over her unruly curls. She would have preferred to wear her hair up for a formal occasion, but had yet to figure out how to do that and still be able to wear the hat. “Close enough,” she said to herself, then headed out to the assembly point a few minutes late.

She had seen Jamie during the week, but no real opportunity presented itself for interaction beyond a brief hello in passing, but even those had been a highlight of her busy days. When she arrived at the auditorium to line up for the processional, she saw him up ahead of her and gave him a quick, slightly nervous wave, hoping all the while that she didn’t look as ridiculous as she felt. There was no time for conversation as the entire group began to march down the aisle. Moments later, Claire was seated up on the stage, somewhere in the middle of the faculty section.

Dr. Colum MacKenzie stepped up to the podium, looked out at the assembled students and began to speak. “Welcome, Leoch College Class of 2024! Tonight you begin your journey which will culminate in your graduation four years from now. Between now and then, you will face many challenges, and I have no doubt that you will rise to meet them. As you each walk onto the stage and sign the honor code book, remember that you are making an oath, pledging to uphold the highest standards of excellence and honesty in your academic life here at Leoch…” Colum continued to speak, but Claire’s attention wandered and she caught sight of Jamie. He was seated across from the faculty on the stage, his chair slightly elevated on risers, along with others from the administration, near where Colum would eventually sit. Moments later, her view was blocked as students began to process across the stage, pausing to sign the book and shake Colum’s hand. Eventually, the last student made his way across the stage and back down to his seat.

One of her colleagues took the podium (she couldn’t recall the name) and began to give a speech, but Claire was once again distracted and her eyes found their way back to Jamie. She realized in that moment that he, like many other men present, had worn a kilt under his academic robes. She found herself staring at his knees of all things, finding them rather attractive, a thought which made her practically giggle to herself, and she struggled to control the grin spreading unbidden across her face. She had never in her life considered the attractiveness of a man’s knees. Following the logical path from the knees, Claire realized that from the angle of her view, she could see quite far up his kilt, and her eyes came to rest somewhere on his inner thigh, where they unconsciously lingered for…well, she really had no idea how long.

When she came back to herself, she had the sensation of being watched, and looked up to see Jamie staring back at her with a half-smile and a raised eyebrow that took her breath away and conjured a blush that surely extended down to her toes. Get it together, Beauchamp, she thought to herself. He’s clearly younger than you. Don’t make a fool of yourself! She composed her traitorous blushing face into what she hoped was polite professionalism, and trained her attention back to the speaker, forcing herself not to glance back. Afterward, that feeling of being a four year old caught with her hand in the cookie jar lingered, and she quickly made her way home, skipping the punch and cookies reception.

*****

It had been five years since Claire’s divorce and in that time, although she had gone on a few dates— a dinner here, a movie there—none of them had developed into anything even remotely resembling a relationship. She had mostly been too preoccupied with her doctoral studies to care, but she would turn 39 in October, and had concluded that her ex was right all along…she probably was too old to hope for much male attention. As a result, she had invested in a high quality vibrator that had seen her through many a long, lonely night. As she lay down, she pulled it out of the bedside drawer, and as its familiar hum filled the room, her thoughts returned to the soft skin of his inner thigh, and what it might feel like to stroke her fingers there.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for reading and for your kind words and comments. 
> 
> You can find me on Twitter at Newbie Becca @Avg_OL_fangirl I post mood-boards there for each chapter.


	4. Consent Is Sexy:  September 2, 2020

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Classes started this week at Leoch College, and along with that comes a lot of other kick-off events for the year. One event in particular, a party/rally against sexual assault on campus, offers Jamie and Claire a chance to interact some more, leading Claire to wonder if there's a chance Jamie might share her attraction.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for reading so far! I greatly appreciate your kudos and comments! 
> 
> In this AU, the relationships aren't always the same as in the canon. In this chapter, we meet Ian, but in this AU, he's only a student with no special relationship to Jamie. 
> 
> Note for non-US readers: At a secular (nonreligious) college, an event like the one in this chapter could happen on a college campus. However, you would not find such an event on the campus of a very conservative and/or religious campus. Some colleges/universities in the US are private and religiously affiliated. This may be a "name only" historic affiliation, or there may be a very active religious culture (such as Roman Catholic or Evangelical Protestant). These often have a very conservative political culture as well (the two go hand in hand). Colleges/universities in the US are very diverse in many ways, including diverse in religion, politics, and overall culture.

In the few weeks she had been at Leoch College, Claire had gravitated to Geillis, and the two had bonded over several wine-soaked evenings. Geillis had shared the details of her coming out, and her journey to becoming Leoch’s campus pastor. Claire had, much to her own surprise, opened up about her childhood, as well as her marriage. 

“I canna believe ye’re still defending him. He sounds to me like a rat bastard,” Geillis opined. They were at the campus bistro having lunch, seated at a slightly off-the-beaten-path table which allowed them to speak freely. 

“What can I say? I was young. Who has much insight at 19? It’s not like he abused me or anything…” Claire answered rather feebly. 

“Maybe he didn’t beat ye, but the whole thing was dysfunctional. A regular hot mess. Ye ken that, don’t ye?”

“Remember that he was 10 years older than me. He had this idea that our marriage would be…oh God, I don’t know…based on some fifties ideal, I guess. He was okay with me being a nurse; that was a traditional job for a woman. But when I started to think about maybe becoming a medical doctor, he shut that down. He wanted children, and we were trying, but we found out that I can’t, then everything just collapsed. I wound up doing a PhD program in botany instead, which was fine, since I really do love it.” 

“So ye think he would have stayed if ye could have given him a houseful of bairns, and given up yer career completely?” 

“He probably would have loved that.” 

“Rat bastard.” 

Claire shifted uncomfortably in her seat, staring down at her salad. For years, Frank had put her down relentlessly, criticizing her aspirations, her appearance, and her seeming inability to be what he wanted her to be. 

It had taken a toll. 

“Ye’re better off without him. Trust me.” Geillis stabbed at the air with her fork for emphasis. “Ye’ll find someone new. Someone who deserves an amazing woman like you.” 

Claire shrugged. “I seriously doubt that. I’ll be 39 next month. Rather past my expiration date, don’t you think?” 

“That’s Frank talking. My God, ye’re gorgeous. Stop putting yerself down. Yer lesbian friend knows these things, ye ken? Ye’ve got classic beauty— ivory skin, amazing eyes like I’ve never seen before, and that arse? Good Lord, woman, ye have one fantastic arse!” 

“What would Louise say to hear you sweet-talking me?” Claire crinkled her nose and laughed.

“She’d ken that I was right and agree that ye’re a fool if ye think ye’re too old to find someone. Listen, Frank may not have physically beat ye, but from everything ye’ve told me, there was definitely some emotional abuse happening. Did he ever say a kind word to ye that he didn’t undercut in the next breath?”

Claire didn’t know what to say, and decided to attend to her salad instead. After several bites, she glanced up, her face brightening to see Jamie enter the bistro on the other side of the room. Geillis noticed Claire’s reaction, following her gaze to its destination. A smirk grew across her lips. Leaning closer to Claire, she whispered conspiratorially, “Now there’s someone for ye. I’ve seen the two of ye together, making heart-eyes at each other. He’s smitten, and so are you by the look of it.” 

Claire rolled her eyes.“Oh God, Geillis. You can’t be serious. He’s got to be five years younger than me if he’s a day. He’s kind and we’re friends, but that’s all. I know you’re trying to help my self-esteem, but really… who am I kidding? I can’t compete with all these college girls. You see how they all flock to him, don’t you? Like bees to honey.” 

“Of course they do, and with good reason. But aside from the ethical quandary that would present, ye don’t see him returning their attention, do ye? He’s polite, but that’s it. He never crosses the line. Oooh, head’s up. He saw ye.” 

Jamie nodded when he caught Claire’s eye, and his smile widened as he walked toward where the two were seated. “Hey, Sassenach! Geillis…” 

“Hey yerself. I was just leaving.” Geillis started to stand up before Claire had a chance to stop her. 

“Actually,” Jamie interjected, "I wanted to let ye know that I’m good to speak tonight. Eight o’clock, right? Casual dress?” 

“Sounds great. Very casual. I think Claire should come too, don’t you?” 

“Absolutely!” Jamie immediately responded, his voice betraying his enthusiasm, resulting in a raised eyebrow from Geillis directed at Claire. 

“Exactly what am I agreeing to attend?” Claire asked, shooting a sharp glance in Geillis’ direction. 

“Nothin’ much. Just a wee get-together for the students— something to list on your tenure portfolio under student engagement. Just be there. Eight o’clock in the ballroom of Cameron Hall,” Geillis answered, grinning like a cat who just cornered an especially fat, juicy-looking mouse. 

“Ye’ll be there?” Jamie asked with that same half-smile that made Claire’s heart beat a little faster each time she saw it.

“How could I possibly say no?” Claire replied as her eyes caught Jamie’s and held them in a visual embrace, suddenly very much aware of their particular shade of blue. 

*****

What on earth had she gotten herself into, Claire thought as she walked into the ballroom at exactly eight o’clock. The room was packed with students, laughing and socializing. There was a small stage and tables were scattered around the room. Posters and banners hung from the walls and the podium, all emblazoned with the message “Consent is Sexy!” At some tables, students could pick up free condoms and free underwear emblazoned with the same slogan as the posters. Other tables offered pizza, chips, popcorn, cookies or drinks as well as a chance to sign up for the annual ‘Walk a Mile in Her Shoes’ walk-a-thon. There was one lonely table, attended by a rather forlorn-looking student, advertising a conservative abstinence-only religious group, Free Church. She felt a little sorry for the student, and thought about going over and talking to him when she was approached by a familiar face. 

“Dr. Beauchamp! Hi!” 

“Ian, right? I’m still getting to know students’ names.” 

“That’s right. Ian Murray. I’m in your first-year seminar. It’s great to see you here! I’m one of the speakers! They recruited a few first year guys to speak on male responsibility and all that.” 

“That’s great, Ian. I’m sure you’ll be brilliant. I’ll be certain to stick around for it.” And with that, Ian nodded as he took off toward the stage where student speakers were still gathering even as Geillis grabbed a microphone and began to speak. 

“Welcome everyone to our third annual ‘Consent is Sexy’ night! I’m Pastor Duncan, as most of ye know. Tonight is sponsored by the Spiritual Services department, along with Student Life and SASS. We’re glad ye’re here. The whole point of tonight is to highlight that consensual sex is HOT SEX, and that consent means nothing less than an enthusiastic YES! We’re working to make sexual assault on campus a thing of the past. We’re handing out all sorts of free goodies, and we’ve got some great student speakers, but before that, I’d like to introduce someone ye all know: Dr. Jamie, the director of Student Academic Support Services, otherwise known as SASS. He’s one of my favorite fellow Scots here on campus, so give it up for Dr. Jamie Fraser!” 

The students burst into applause, with a few cheers and hoots thrown in, as Jamie bounded up to the stage with a wave, taking the microphone from Geillis. Claire had positioned herself out of the main crowd of students, near a wall close to the stage. Jamie scanned the crowd, grinning when his eyes met Claire’s. 

“Thank ye. Truly. Our goal for this academic year is to have ZERO cases of sexual assault on campus, and to reach that goal, each and every one of us needs to commit 100% to the idea that consent is not an option. I believe we can do it if we all commit, not only for ourselves but for each other. We’re a family here at Leoch, and family looks out for each other, ye ken? If ye see someone behaving badly at a party, especially toward someone who’s in no state to offer their consent, step up and say something. Watch out for each other. We need to create a culture on campus where consent is the norm and bad behavior isna tolerated. Ye should also think about the kind of person you want to be, for yer own sake as well as for others. Yer honor is on the line here, and once ye lose that, it’s verra hard to get it back. Consent is not an option. It’s mandatory. Always.” 

There was a smattering of applause, and Jamie paused before continuing. This time before he spoke, he turned his head in Claire’s direction, and looked exclusively at her. It was subtle enough that the students didn’t realize he was focusing only on one person as he spoke, but the hairs on the back of Claire’s neck stood on end and she was transfixed by him, helpless to look away. He went on, his voice slowing and lowering in pitch as he spoke.

“And ye need to understand this too…consent is verra sexy. To be with someone, to give yerself completely, and understand on a deep level that they’re giving themselves back to ye just as much, that they truly want ye…there’s nothing better in the whole world.” 

At this, a few students yelled out, “Aww, yeeaaahhhh!” This was followed by laughter from others, and more applause as Jamie turned the microphone over to the first student speaker. 

Claire’s knees were weak. Surely he didn’t mean…he couldn’t possibly, could he? No, it was obviously her own overactive imagination, coupled with the physical intoxication that followed every time she so much as looked at the man. And, God help her, he was walking straight towards Claire, his progress impeded occasionally by students (especially female students) stopping him constantly to share their agreement with his words. 

Her mind raced. Every negative word Frank had ever spoken to her came roaring back, along with thoughts of unspoken words as well. A memory, unbidden, popped into her mind of one evening shortly before everything went to hell. She had worn what she thought was a particularly sexy negligee, only to have him ignore her and turn on the television instead. Other memories, even less pleasant, quickly followed of the many times she had opened her legs at his insistence, her own consent marginal at best. Far from the enthusiastic yes promoted by the event, her sex life had been obligatory. Routine. Expected. It was marriage, or at least Frank’s version of marriage. 

She shuddered and was pulled back to the present moment with a jolt. Could it be, she thought. Someone like Jamie? Pay attention to her? Think of her that way?

 _Stop it, Beauchamp. Don’t be ridiculous. He’s out of your league and you know it._

“Hi!” she greeted him as he stopped to stand beside her. 

They stood together for the next hour, listening to student speeches and a rather risque trivia game led by the Student Life staff. All the while, they stood, leaning in closer, each not daring more. Unable to break free, they remained in each other’s orbit, glancing up now and then or sharing a casual comment. Each was very much aware of the other: a bicep, a breast, an errant curl, an accidental brush of a hand. Surely, it was accidental. When it was over, Jamie offered to walk her to her car, and lacking any good reason to refuse, Claire agreed, her heart pounding. It took all her self control to slip back into professional mode, addressing him as a friendly colleague, no more, which was clearly for the best. It wouldn’t help her career at Leoch to be fawning over one of her colleagues like a schoolgirl, especially one she relied on so heavily.

“Right, then.” She took a deep breath. “Thank you for seeing me safe. You’re very kind. I’ll see you tomorrow?” 

“No problem. Sure, tomorrow?” 

Claire nodded in response. 

“I’ll look forward to seeing ye.” 

She quickly got in the car and drove off, leaving a rather forlorn Dr. James Fraser standing in the parking lot, waving to her tail lights as they disappeared into the night. She briefly glanced in the rear-view mirror, seeing him drop his hand, look down at the pavement, and slowly turn to walk away. Her heart lifted a tiny bit at the sight. Could he possibly? Was it worth the risk to even entertain the idea? 

Later that evening, Claire found herself once again reaching into her bedside drawer, only this time instead of his inner thigh, her thoughts turned to a glimpse she had caught of his collar bone, imagining what it might be like to press her lips exactly there. 

She arched her back and gasped. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sexual assault on college/university campuses is a real problem, and it is not my intent to make light of it in this chapter. Although events like the one described can try to help address the problem in a fun, positive way, it in no way detracts from the seriousness of the issue. Colleges and universities have taken a variety of approaches to address the issue in recent years with varying success. Although this approach isn't perfect, it does help to re-frame consent as a positive and necessary component of a relationship. 
> 
> As always, thank you for reading!


	5. In Which Plans Are Made: September 10, 2020

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An encounter at the semester kick-off faculty picnic leads to Jamie and Claire making plans for a date. Claire consults Geillis for some key advice. Some shopping ensues.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's warm today in upstate New York, but cloudy. Perfect for a picnic! 
> 
> Note for non-US readers: At a small college like Leoch (with 2500-3000 students), it's not uncommon for the faculty to get together for parties hosted by the college president. The president usually lives in a house owned by the college, on or near campus, which is equipped for hosting large gatherings. Many colleges have competitive equestrian programs as part of their athletics, so having stables near the edge of campus next to the president's house is entirely plausible in this AU.

It had been several days since the awkward parting in the parking lot, days during which Claire had several occasions to interact with Jamie on a professional basis: consulting about a student, answering her questions, updating her on a meeting she missed… Claire found herself settling in, growing more comfortable in her new role, and realizing that she largely had Jamie to thank for that. Everything was easy with him, and she could truly relax in his presence, unlike with many of her other new colleagues. Time stood still when they were together; a question that could have taken him two minutes to answer always seemed to turn into a twenty minute conversation, ending in smiles and laughter. 

So it was not at all surprising that she should find herself standing in Colum’s backyard on a warm but thankfully not too hot afternoon, deeply engaged in conversation with Jamie once again. The faculty and senior administrators were all there, gathered for the annual semester kick-off picnic, hosted by Leoch College’s president and his wife. Tables were scattered around the large backyard that bordered the equestrian center, and the buffet was being set up. Claire and Jamie leaned into each other as they talked and slowly meandered away from the crowd toward the stables. She could have sworn she caught him trying to look at her ass, but she wasn’t quite ready to admit the implications to herself of that particular observation. 

“How’s Fergus doing? Any better?” Jamie asked, taking a sip of his beer. 

“I think so. He’s starting to open up more in discussions, but he’s still very shy. I think it helped him to talk to you.” 

“I’m glad to hear it. He’s a tough case. No family. Grew up in foster care. Got a full-ride scholarship here, so he’s intelligent enough. He’s street smart, canny…but he doesn’t know this world. His biggest problem is thinking he doesna belong here. Imposter syndrome, ye ken?” 

“Oh, I _ken_ all right.” Claire laughed awkwardly. “I think I’ve got a bit of that myself.” 

They reached the stables, slipping inside the open doors and stepping out of the sunlight. Jamie stopped, reaching up to scratch one of the horses between the ears. He turned to Claire, pausing and taking a deep breath as though he were considering his words carefully.

“Claire, ye’re doing just fine. Truly. I’ve been here eight years. Started out in the languages department fresh out of my PhD program. God, I wondered who in the hell thought I deserved a PhD? I couldna quite believe that I’d earned it. I felt like that for five years, before I took over SASS. Since I’ve been there, I’ve worked with lots of new faculty, helped them settle in, ye ken, and I’ve realized that ye can tell the ones that are going to be alright, and the ones who will end up leaving. And ye’re a keeper, Sassenach. Ye’ll be fine. Ye know why?” 

“Because ye care. Ye care about yer students, even the ones that push yer buttons and drive ye mad with frustration. Yer heart is in it. That’s what counts in the end. Ye can have all the degrees in the world, and fail as a professor if ye dinnae care.” He looked her directly in the eye as though he could convince her of the truth of his words through the intensity of his gaze alone. “Ye belong here, Claire.” 

She looked down, focusing her attention on the straw scattered over the floor, noticing the heat radiating from Jamie. The man simply radiated warmth, body and soul. “Thank you, Jamie. It means a lot.” 

They stood for a minute breathing the musty air of the stables, Jamie crooning words in Gaelic to the horse. Without realizing it, they had inched closer to each other, so close that Claire had to tip her head up to look him in the eye. When she did, she found him looking back at her, eyes dark, his lips slightly parted. Her breath hitched as he leaned in closer…

“Dinner, Dr. Fraser!” 

The voice of one of the food service workers cut through the air like a knife, abruptly shifting the moment. Claire caught her breath and stepped back, quickly slipping into denial of what had almost happened. 

“They sent me down to get you both. The buffet is open.” 

“Thank you kindly, Pauline,” Jamie responded in a tight voice as she turned and trotted off back across the lawn. 

*****

Plates full, Jamie and Claire found seats at a table with Claire’s department chair, Dr. Joe Abernathy, and the conversation drifted as it usually did at the kick-off picnic to the topic of the newly arrived first-year students.

“How’s that seminar going, Claire?” Joe asked just as she was taking a bite of her hamburger. “I saw that you’ve got the Cameron girl.” 

Claire hurriedly chewed her bite, swallowed, and wiped her mouth with her napkin before answering. “She’s doing well. She’s a lovely girl—participates in discussions well, excellent writer. She blends right in. I don’t think any of her fellow students are aware of who her parents are, or that they’re on the board of trustees.” 

“I’m glad to hear it. It’s always a bit awkward when one of the board kids is enrolled. We had one a while back—I won’t name names— absolute disaster. The kid partied constantly. Drank like a fish. Flunked every class. Of course, Dad found out when he saw junior’s grades laying around the house over break. Started demanding explanations, blaming us. Said we failed his kid because he voted against raises for the faculty. Try having _that_ discussion over board bacon. God, what a nightmare.” Joe shook his head at the memory of it. 

The conversation went on, with those at the table comparing notes on the new students. All the while, Claire and Jamie’s knees were gently touching under the table. Neither had spoken of what had almost happened in the stables, but Claire knew it was on both their minds. How could it be otherwise? Every time she had glanced at Jamie during dinner, he smiled that delicious half-smile that made her head swim. It felt as though they had a secret language, having a conversation without words. An eyebrow, a slight tip of a head, a shift of position that caused their knees to rub ever so slightly…it was electric. Once, as her hand rested on her thigh during a lull in the conversation, Jamie’s fingers brushed against hers, resulting in a burst of adrenaline that made her breath catch and her head spin. She felt drunk— giddy and off-balance, and she realized she rather liked it.

With the last of the peach cobbler consumed, the picnic was breaking up. While Claire was loath to end the exquisite torture of the connection they had tentatively forged, she couldn’t put it off any longer; at long last she got up, excusing herself to take her leave before the entire table emptied, leaving them awkwardly alone. Jamie quickly stood up as well, said a terse goodbye to the table, and followed her a few paces away from the group. 

“Claire, can I ask ye something?” 

“Of course,” she replied, all the while noticing how the color of his hair blazed when hit by the early evening sun that was peeking out through some breaks in the clouds. 

“Ye’ll have heard of the campus concert series, I suppose…the first one’s next Monday. They’ve got a Welsh bard coming. Would ye like to join me and go together? Maybe get a bite of dinner off campus beforehand?” 

Claire bit her lip against a smile, feeling her cheeks flush. “I’d like that.” 

“How about we meet at the The World’s End?” 

“Sounds ominous.” 

Jamie laughed. “Aye, it does, doesn’t it? Great food though. They’re a copycat of a pub in Edinburgh, right down to the menu. It’s within walking distance of campus, and I ken ye said ye took a place nearby.” 

“I did. I actually walk past it on my way to work, but I haven’t been inside…probably because it sounded too ominous.” 

“Dinna fash. I’ll be there to protect ye. Ye needna fear any wee beasties,” he said with a wink. “Six o’clock? The concert is at eight.”

“Sounds like a plan.” 

*****

_ <<Geillis, HELP>> _ Claire texted the second she walked into her apartment. 

_ <<What’s wrong?>> _

_ <<Can you come over here? Now please?>> _

  
  


“So, yer wee fox cub finally made a move, did he?” Geillis smirked. “It was just a matter of time. I told ye so. But did ye listen to me?”

“Fine. You were right. Happy now?” 

“Supremely.” 

Claire raked her hands through her wayward curls, shaking her head at the contents of her closet. “Christ, I haven’t been on a date since…God, I’m not even sure when! I got fixed up a couple times after the divorce, but they weren’t anyone I was actually interested in. The last actual relationship I had was with Frank.” 

“And ye’re interested now, are ye?” 

“Bloody hell, Geillis, you have to rub it in, don’t you? YES. I’m fucking interested!” Claire threw up her hands in frustration at her lack of ability to put into words what she was feeling. “He’s… perfect. Just brilliant! I can’t explain it. It’s magical with him. Everything. It’s ridiculous, I know. I’m 38 going on 13. I honestly feel like a schoolgirl all over again. Stupid, really.” 

Geilis eased herself down onto the edge of the bed with a sympathetic shrug. “He is verra easy on the eyes. Anyone can see that. He’s smart. Kind. He’s had lasses fallin’ all o’er him on a regular basis ever since I’ve known him. I’ve met a few men with a wee crush as well.” 

“That’s exactly what worries me.” Claire flopped back onto the bed beside her, arms stretched out over her head.

“Claire, listen to me.” Geillis’ voice had lost its usual sarcastic tone, softening into genuine concern. “It’s true that he could have his pick of the hens around this place, but he isnae interested. Never has been. I dinna think he’s even _dated_ anyone here in the five years I’ve known him, and I’ve never seen him sae taken with someone as he is wi’ you. So whatever it is ye’re doin’, keep doin’ it!” 

“Oh God…that’s just it, isn’t it? I have no _idea_ what I’m doing!” Claire sat up again, staring back at her closet. “At least help me pick out something to wear.” 

“Fair enough.” Geillis climbed to her feet, clapping her hands together decisively. “Let’s work from the ground up. What do ye have in the way of lingerie? Ye have any decent lace bras? A proper thong?” Without waiting for permission, she opened the top dresser drawer and began to rifle through Claire’s underthings. 

Claire’s eyes went wide. “Do you think I’ll need it? It’s only a first date, after all. Oh God…I haven’t been with anyone in…” 

“I dinna ken, Claire, but one thing I do know is that ye need help. Urgent help. Ye canna wear this and expect his cock to stand at attention.” Geillis held up a particularly ratty pair of knickers, her nose wrinkled in disgust. “Ye need to throw out this entire drawer and upgrade everything. I’m serious. Take every damn thing in this drawer and toss it in the rubbish bin.” 

She pulled out her phone, punched in a website, then held it up to show Claire. “This. This is what ye need. Madame Jeanne’s in Ithaca. Lovely wee place, right in the main pedestrian block. I shop there all the time. Get yerself down there tomorrow and make a dent in yer next paycheck. With yer pale skin, go with bold colors. Dinna come back here with any pastels or bland beige, ye hear me? And silk. I want this drawer filled with silk. While ye’re at it, maybe a teddy or two? Or a garter belt? Some ribbons and bows? Ye want something for him to rip off ye.” 

Claire’s cheeks pinked at the thought of Jamie ripping anything off her in the heat of passion, and in spite of herself, she grinned. 

“Uh-huh… I see ye blushing. It’s just a matter of time, and ye must be ready. Trust me.”

“Fine. What about the outer layers? I can’t go to dinner and a concert in nothing but my newly purchased fancy lace.” 

“Despite the fact that I think Jamie would be pleased as punch to see ye in nothing but lace, it might no’ be appropriate for the pub. These concerts are casual. Are ye feeling more of a sundress or a jeans and blouse kind of vibe? The pub runs cold—they crank the air conditioner up to max, so maybe no’ the sundress. Ye’d freeze, but…” Geillis paused for a moment to consider the possibilities. “Mebbe we could work that to yer advantage? I’m thinking the jeans to show off yer arse, and this little black thing on top to hug the curves. If it’s as cold as usual in the pub, yer nipples will pop right out there for him. It’ll be subtle with the black, ye ken, but he’ll notice. Dinna wear a padded bra.” 

_“Geillis!”_

“Ye asked for help. Dinna blame me for givin’ it to ye!” 

*****

Luckily, Claire didn’t have class until late on Fridays, so the next morning found her perusing the offerings at Madame Jeanne’s. She was slowly starting to believe that Frank had been wrong — she was still reasonably attractive, even if she _was_ pushing forty. She wasn’t automatically doomed to spend her days as a drab spinster cat-lady who wore sensible shoes and granny-panties. And regardless of whether or not Jamie ever saw them, she decided that she wanted some new things for her own sake. 

_Fuck Frank._ She deserved to feel sexy. 

She took Geillis’ advice and spent more in that shop over the course of an hour than she had ever spent on lingerie in her entire life, and walked out feeling like a diva. She immediately drove back to her apartment, stopping to change into some new underthings—the purple satin matched set. 

That afternoon, she walked into her Intro Biology class feeling ready to take on the world…or at least one James Fraser. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! I appreciate all your comments and encouragement. 
> 
> Watch for clues in the chapter for when the next will post. They have a date on Monday, so expect the next chapter to post Monday night.


	6. An Unspoken Understanding:  September 14, 2020

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jamie has coffee with Murtagh and catches up on life at Leoch College, including his attraction to one particular Sassenach. Jamie and Claire go on their first date.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> About this AU: In this AU, only Geillis and Jamie are Scottish, since this is a college in upstate New York in the USA. Most faculty, staff and students are American, with the exception of Claire, Jamie and Geillis. There really is a pub called the World's End, mentioned in Voyager. It exists today in Edinburgh. I checked their menu before deciding what Claire and Jamie would order. And yes, the weather is nice tonight in upstate NY. 
> 
> Note for readers outside the US: When Jamie talks about Dougal and athletics at Leoch, he references that Leoch is a "Division 3" school. This refers to the NCAA (National Collegiate Athletic Association) divisions. Division 1 are the really big universities with 20,000+ students. Sometimes athletes who play at schools like this become professional athletes, playing in the NFL (national football league), NBA (national basketball association), major league baseball, etc... Scouts from pro teams often follow Div. 1 athletes. Division 1 schools only compete against other Division 1 schools. By contrast, Division 3 schools are small colleges who play against each other. Students at these schools may play a sport for fun, but don't have any hopes of ever going pro. Division 2 schools are in-between in terms of size. Sports are a big deal at American colleges and universities, no matter the size of the school.

Finding a table at Mrs. Fitz’s coffee shop was always a challenge, but it seemed that luck was with them today. Jamie spotted one and quickly sat down before anyone else claimed it, gesturing to Murtagh, who was at the counter comparing the virtues of the blueberry muffins to those of the cinnamon rolls. He stirred his latte, adding the contents of a single sugar packet and breaking off the corner of his lemon scone and popping it in his mouth. A couple of young women at a nearby table, obviously students, were hovering over their pumpkin spice whatever, heads together, giggling in his direction, occasionally trying to catch his eye. Jamie was used to the effect he had on the females of Leoch College, and summarily ignored them, focusing his attention instead on his phone, where he was occupied with texting Claire. 

_ <<Are we still good for tonight, Sassenach?>> _

About 30 seconds lapsed before the reply came.

_ <<Absolutely. Six o’clock at the World’s End. Don’t forget you promised to be my knight in shining armor if we encounter any stray kelpies or water horses.>> _

_ <<Dinna fash, Sassenach. I’ve got ye.>> _

_ <<Never doubted it. See you tonight.>> _

Jamie grinned to himself as he reread the brief exchange, his nose wrinkling with delight, then scrolled back to read texts from earlier. He and Claire had been texting off and on since the picnic, making small jokes and checking in throughout the day. It made his heart leap just a little whenever his phone lit up with her name, and he especially liked it when he would send off a brief ‘goodnight’ text before going to sleep and get one back from Claire, followed by a ‘good morning’ exchange first thing the next day. In quiet moments at work, he would reread them over and over, always smiling uncontrollably to himself as he did. More than once, a colleague or student worker walked in and asked him what on the phone was making him so happy, forcing him to offer a vague explanation before quickly stashing the phone. 

If he was honest with himself, he was finding it hard to concentrate, his mind busy spinning out scenarios—everything from their first kiss to their first trip together to Scotland. He looked up as Murtagh approached, apparently having settled on the cinnamon roll. 

“So, is it true?” Murtagh leaned closer as he sat down, one bristly eyebrow raised.

“Is what true?” Jamie answered with a smirk, popping a bite of scone in his mouth before taking a sip of coffee. 

“You and the new biology prof. John said he saw the two of you head off tae the stables at Colum’s the other day. I swear he keeps hoping for a chance with you himself.” He spoke conspiratorially, glancing around to make sure no one heard. 

“John has long ago resigned himself to his fate that our relationship consists only of him forever losing to me at chess.” He paused to take another bite of the scone before leaning in closer. “But to your question, it’s early days yet, but yes. We have our first real date tonight. We met at the new employee orientation and hit it off right away. It’s…I can’t explain it…it’s different with her. There’s nothing usual or ordinary about it. God, I feel like I’m 15 again. I dinna understand it myself.” He beamed as he tossed back his head and threw up his hands in joyful frustration, unable to find words to convey his feelings to his mentor and friend.

“John’s not the only one who’s noticed. You two are grist for the Leoch rumor mill.” 

“Let them talk.” Jamie waved his hand, dismissing the gossip. “We’re nothing but professional when we’re on the clock, and ye ken it.” 

“Jamie, you do a fine job with SASS and everyone knows it. It’s only…the department’s just not the same without you. I miss seeing you everyday and hearing news from you first instead of the rumor mill. I should be the first to know these things, not the last. By the way, I’d love it if you could teach a section of Intro Gaelic in the spring. Any chance I could entice you back?” 

“What are ye offering? Give me a good enough deal, and I’ll consider it.” Jamie smirked, leaning back in his chair. 

“Well, Suzette and I are traveling to France over the holidays. If you think you might want it, the cabin will be free. It’d make a perfect spot for a quiet Christmas for two…that is, if you think you and Claire might be together. You’d have it for the whole break.” 

Jamie’s eyes lit up, and he immediately responded. “Ye have a deal. Put me down for a class. Name the time. I’ll even do the 8 o’clock early shift. I’m yers.”

“Good God, man. You have it bad.” Murtagh shook his head. 

“I suppose I do.” Jamie chuckled. “ I’m completely under her power and happy to be there.” 

*****

  
  


“Oh, this is heavenly,” Claire closed her eyes as she put another forkful of steak and ale pie into her mouth. “You were right. This place is fantastic.” 

A sensuous _“Mmmmmmm…”_ followed the next bite, and Jamie quirked an eyebrow, giving a half-smile as he dug into his extra large portion of fish and chips, splashing some malt vinegar over the whole lot. 

“If I’d known I was going to get such a reaction, I’d have brought ye here sooner, Sassenach.” 

“So tell me about how you wound up at Leoch…” Claire composed herself, blushing just a little bit at his remark.

“Weel, it isna exactly a tale worthy of a bard. I grew up outside Inverness on a family farm. My sister and her husband still run the place, with a houseful of bairns. We used to raise mostly sheep, but that really wasna profitable, so they switched to doing a little of everything when the farm-to-table movement took off. Now they supply local restaurants wi’ meat and vegetables both, in season of course. Being here, I really miss watching the weans grow up. We keep in touch with video calls, but it’s just no’ the same, ye ken. I try to get back to visit a couple times a year.” He pulled out his phone and showed her several pictures of his nieces and nephews, his face lighting up when he pointed out his namesake, wee Jamie. 

“Sorry,” he went on, putting the phone back in his pocket. “Canna help myself. Proud uncle and all…anyway, I did my undergraduate work at the University of Edinburgh, then my PhD at Boston University before being hired here. They took me on mostly because I have the Gaelic.” 

“I thought that was Gaelic you were speaking to the horse! Are the horses at Leoch fluent?” She giggled a little as she bit her lip gently. 

He stroked the scruff on his jawline thoughtfully before replying, “No’ fluent, I dinna think. Their pronunciation needs work.”

“But you are?” 

“Aye. Languages have always come easy to me. I dinna understand how, but I’m grateful.” 

“What all do you speak?” Claire leaned in, genuinely interested. 

“Gaelic, of course, but also French, German, Greek, Latin, and a wee bit of Welsh that could come in handy tonight if ye want a live translation of the concert.” She noticed that he answered matter-of-factly, without any arrogance in his voice. 

Claire took another bite, washing it down with a swallow of beer. “That’s really quite impressive. I’m lucky if I can remember enough of my university French to order _pommes frites_ in a restaurant.” Jamie beamed and she continued, “You seem happy here.” 

“I am. It suits me. I dinna belong at a big university…a publish or perish place. I’d rather focus my energy on the students. Ye canna really do that at a big school. I like the people here too. I get along with most. Not all, but most.” 

“I can’t imagine there’s anyone you don’t get along with. Everyone I’ve met seems to adore you.” 

Jamie laughed, taking a bite of the fish before licking his fingers. “Ye’ll have not yet met Dougal then, I suppose.” 

“Dougal? You mean the athletic director? Coaches the football team too?” Claire replied with a raised eyebrow and a tip of her head. “No, I haven’t. I take it he’s one who’s not a fan?” 

“No’ exactly. We butt heads regularly. He has…” Jamie paused, choosing his words carefully. “…verra strong opinions on the role of sports at Leoch. He’s a ‘win no matter what the cost’ sort of person, but that attitude doesna serve our students well. We’re a Division 3 school. Our kids play sports for fun, no’ to go pro. I dinna want them to sacrifice their education—or their health— for the sake of Dougal’s ego.” 

“Hmm…I can see how that might cause a problem.”

Jamie paused and looked Claire directly in the eye. “It’s only a matter of time before he’ll come to ye, asking for some favor for one of his players.” 

“Good to know. I guess I’ll have to be ready for him.” 

Jamie smiled. “Aye, ye will. I’ve no doubt that ye can handle him.” 

They finished their meal with a dram of whisky and strolled the couple blocks to campus. It was a perfect evening, the weather hadn't yet succumbed to autumn's chill, and the setting sun shone golden through the trees that lined the streets. The concert was in a small, intimate theater, not the large auditorium of the convocation. As they arrived, students with notebooks were milling around, talking to each other and signing the various attendance lists laid out on a table off to the side. Jamie and Claire found seats in the back row on the far left, with both of them gravitating to the same area by unspoken agreement. The performer specialized in folk songs and period instruments, playing a lute to accompany his melodious voice. Throughout the concert, they leaned closer to each other, with Jamie translating the overall essence of the songs. 

Every cell in Claire’s body was attuned to the man next to her. She felt his curls brush her own, caught glimpses of sapphire as his eyes glanced her direction, smelled the whisky on his breath as he whispered in her ear. Every sensation felt intense, heightened, _more,_ as though some dial within her was turned up to the highest volume.

Afterward, he walked her home, all the while talking and laughing with her about a thousand small, inconsequential details of their lives: her need for strong coffee before work, his love of Homer’s Odyssey, her favorite color (blue), his workout routine… It was easy, comfortable and warm, like slipping on a favorite sweater on a chilly morning in autumn. Intellectual one minute, silly the next, the conversation went down one rabbit hole after another, always ending with each holding the other’s gaze a second longer than necessary. 

Finally arriving at her door, they paused, suddenly not knowing what to say. They both started to talk at the same moment, then after laughing at themselves, Jamie said, “You first.” 

“I was going to say I had a wonderful time. Thank you.” She glanced down, looking at his hands, noticing their size and imagining them on her bare skin.

“I’m glad ye did.” 

An awkward pause followed before he spoke again. 

“I would verra much like to kiss you. May I?” 

Her breath hitched. “Yes.”

His lips were soft as they tentatively made contact with hers, gently testing the borders and boundaries of her response. Claire held back at first, equally uncertain. She sensed his own restraint, and it endeared him to her. He wouldn’t batter her with expectations, with demands, with a million unspoken rules. He would let her be who she was, who she wanted to be. She relaxed, opened her heart and her lips, welcoming. Tenderly, he entered, his tongue meeting hers, caressing, questioning. She responded in kind, answering. Emboldened by her response, he bit her lip gently, then slowly broke away from her as a smile spread across his face. He took her by the hand, kissed it, bowing low as he did, looking up into her eyes and holding them with his own.

“Good night,” he said softly, before turning and walking away. 

“Good night,” Claire whispered in response, watching him as he went, her heart in her throat.

 _How different,_ she thought. _How strange._ She wasn’t used to being fully herself with another, especially not with Frank. Then, she had been a chameleon, changing herself to suit his whims, not knowing any other way to be, not having any true colors of her own. It had taken her five long years to start to figure out who this person, Claire, really was. With Jamie there was something else, something between them—an unspoken understanding, a glimpse of the deep heart of the other, a truth. There was also an energy, deep and powerful, thrumming in the air. Just beneath the surface, it was lush and primal, beckoning them both. 

She didn’t think she could resist it. 

She wasn’t sure she wanted to. 

She took a deep breath, letting the evening breeze flow over her before turning to go inside.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, thank you for reading! I really appreciate all your comments and kind words. Remember, this fic is written in real time as the story unfolds. Expect a mini chapter later this week, and another date on the weekend.


	7. The Copier Room: September 18, 2020

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What happened in the copier room...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a mini chapter!! Read it to know when the next chapter will post. Remember, this story is happening in real time, so things might be a little different than most fics. 
> 
> Thank you for reading! I appreciate all your kudos and comments.

Neither of them had planned it. It just sort of happened. They bumped into each other in the copier room. Literally. Rounding the corner, papers in hand, a very distracted Claire ran smack into Jamie’s chest. 

“Hello there, Sassenach.” 

A flustered smile broke across Claire’s face as Jamie’s hands caught her by the forearms, steadying her. 

“Hello to you too.” 

They hadn’t seen each other alone since the night of the concert. It was a busy week, and although their texts had become more flirty, and plenty of heart-eyes had been exchanged at committee meetings, there hadn’t been a chance for anything more. Jamie glanced out of the copier room, into the adjacent storage room that led into the hallway. 

“Seems I’ve finally managed to get ye alone.” He licked his lips, then gave Claire the half-smile that made her knees weak and her breath come short. 

“It appears that you have. What exactly do you intend to do about the situation?” She smirked and raised both eyebrows, emphasizing the question.

He reached out, took her hand and stepped backwards, drawing her further into the room, grinning with excitement. She followed, flashing him glances, her chin tipped down, lips pressed together in a smile. She swayed her hips, very much aware that underneath her practical, work friendly, plaid dress, she was wearing the black lace today, the ones with the extra ribbons. A quick thought of gratitude to Geillis crossed her mind. Ready for anything, indeed. Of course, this was the copier room, not her bedroom, but that didn’t mean they couldn’t steal a moment. She reached up, wrapping her arms around his neck. He quickly encompassed her waist with his large hands, pulling her into a deeper embrace than the other night before pressing his lips to hers. She melted into him as their mouths opened, tasting one another, seeking to re-establish the connection from the other night. 

“I quit!” 

They immediately pulled apart, and turned to see a student, standing in the doorway. 

“Geordie…” Jamie started to speak, but was cut off before he could get another word out.

“I’m Free Church. A secular college is one thing, but when it’s come to…orgies in the copier room, it’s come too far.” He paused, looked up at the clock on the wall behind them with an expression of utter disgust. “For God’s sake, it’s not even noon!” Geordie turned on his heels and stomped out of the room, leaving Jamie and Claire in his wake, their stunned expressions quickly giving way to laughter. 

“Is he okay? I didn’t mean to cause you any trouble.” Claire giggled. 

“Och, he’s fine. He’s no’ going anywhere.” Jamie tried to stifle a chuckle, failing miserably. “He’s a senior. He’s been making noise like that ever since his orientation week.” 

“Free Church? Isn’t that the abstinence group?” 

“Aye, among other things.” Jamie nodded, smirking. “They tend to make a fuss over activities they don’t approve of.” 

“I remember now!” Claire recalled, her eyes widening. “I saw him there, at the consent rally. He was all alone and I felt sorry for him.” 

“Dinna fash about Geordie.” Jamie waved a hand dismissively before turning his attention back to Claire. Looking at each other, they both burst into laughter all over again before a slightly awkward silence descended on them both.

“I do think we need to get far away from this campus.” Claire beamed a wide smile at him, hesitating only a moment. “Do you trust me?” 

“Aye, what do ye have in mind?” He answered, his eyes narrowing. 

“Oh, just a surprise.” Claire flirted shamelessly, glancing left and right, tilting her head as she did. “Tomorrow morning. I’ll pick you up at eleven?” 

“It’s a date, Sassenach.” 


	8. Second Date: September 19, 2020

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Claire and Jamie head out of town on their second date.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's a gorgeous fall day in upstate NY for our real-time story!! Remember to look for hints in this chapter about when the next will post. As always, thank you for reading. I appreciate all your comments and kudos. I post moodboards on Twitter. Find me there under Newbie Becca @Avg_OL_fangirl

Claire drove up to Jamie’s apartment at exactly eleven o’clock. He’d obviously been watching for Claire’s arrival since he bounded out the door, smiling, before she could text him. He hopped in the car, planted a kiss on her cheek and immediately asked, “So, where are ye taking me, Sassenach?” 

“I’ve got our afternoon planned,” she answered with a smirk. “You’ll just have to trust me.” 

“Am I being kidnapped then?” He feigned a fearful expression.

“Perhaps. I’m still pondering my options.” And with that, she drove off, headed out of town, following the voice commands coming from her phone, turning left, then right, then left again before hitting the road out of town.

After a mile or two of companionable silence, she glanced quickly over at him. He was the picture of contentment—relaxed, with the edge of his mouth upturned. “I thought it best that we leave the college behind for a while, but you’ll have to bear with me. I’m new to the area, and my choices were based entirely on the advertising in some tourist brochures and some quick Internet searching. I really have no idea what I’m doing.” 

“Dinna fash, Sassenach. I trust ye.” He flashed her a wide smile. About a half hour later, they pulled into ‘ _The Bee’s Knees._ ’

“I’ve heard of this place, but I’ve never been here. If I recall, desserts are their specialty, aye?” 

“That’s what the tourist guide said.” Claire had planned an afternoon involving a stop later on at a local distillery for a tasting, and thought it best to approach that with a full stomach, given that she was driving, after all. A sturdy lunch, complete with the house special dessert, seemed like just the ticket. 

_The Bee’s Knees_ was affiliated with a local apiary, and their menu had many items featuring their specialty products that were sold in the adjacent shop. Both Jamie and Claire had a fancy burger topped with their signature honey mustard, but managed to save some room for dessert as well. 

“The honey pot? How does that sound to ye, Sassenach?” Jamie asked as he perused the dessert menu, a thoughtful expression on his face. “It’s the specialty of the house, but there’s a choice of fruit. Want to share?” 

“Who am I to turn down the house specialty— what are the fruit choices?” 

“Apple, peach, or strawberry…” He paused for a moment. “Did ye know that the name Fraser means strawberry?” 

“No, I didn’t. Clearly, that settles it. We absolutely must have a strawberry _Fraser_ honey pot.” Claire grinned and waved for the waitress.

“Anything for you, Sassenach.” Jamie winked, an act that made Claire’s heart beat a little faster and turned her palms to puddles. 

A few minutes later, they were presented with the dessert and two spoons. The pot itself was a specially made pink ceramic baking dish shaped with a fluted edge like a flower, complete with a ceramic bee perched there as though waiting to dive in. Inside was layered a rich vanilla sponge cake, topped with fresh strawberries, a layer of custard, and finally a thick glaze of honey, all contained in the pot. Armed with the spoons, they dug into the sticky confection. 

_“Mmmph…”_ Jamie emitted an unidentifiable Scottish noise of approval, gesturing his spoon toward the dessert. “This is absolutely delicious! I dinna think I’ve ever tasted anything sae good. Their reputation for desserts is well-deserved.” 

“Glad you like it. I had worried that a Scotsman might eat only porridge and haggis.” She giggled, accidentally brushing his leg with hers under the table. 

“Och, ye wound me, Sassenach! I’ll have ye know I have a verra sophisticated palate. Now that ye’ve stuffed me and fattened me up, what’s next on the agenda?”

“A craft distillery. I saw how much you enjoyed your whisky at the pub the other night and thought you might enjoy it. There’s one near the south end of Seneca Lake, fairly close by. It got good ratings. Their line of whisky is named McKenzie, which sounded rather Scottish, so I’ve booked us a private tasting. Have you ever been there?” Claire bit her lip nervously, hoping that he hadn’t been there already, or worse, that he had and found the offerings truly dreadful.

“No, I havena. Ye’d think by now I would have, but I usually just stick to the imports that remind me of home, but ye know, it’s good to try new things…with new people.” Jamie’s eyes met hers and lingered there as he spoke. They were fathomless blue, clear and deep. Claire felt both hypnotized and embraced by his gaze. He threaded his fingers through hers on the table. 

The spell was broken by the arrival of the check, which Claire quickly grabbed. “You paid for the pub the other night. Today is my treat. It’s only fair.” 

“Fair’s fair, Sassenach. Thank ye. Considering that ye kidnapped me, it’s only fitting.” He smirked.

“I don’t recall hearing much objection from you.” 

“None at all, Sassenach. None at all.” A satisfied smile spread across his face, and he leaned back in his chair. “Do ye like camping?” 

“I love it,” Claire replied, wondering where this question was leading. 

“Next weekend, the Outdoors Club from the college is doing a trip. I’m the advisor, ye ken.” Jamie looked at her hopefully. “They’re climbing Mt. Marcy. We leave Friday night and we’ll be back by Sunday dinnertime. It’s wi’ students, but it should be fun. I can lend ye a tent and gear if ye need it.”

“I’d love to…” Claire began hesitantly. “But I really can’t. I’m stretched so thin right now at work that I can’t lose a whole weekend. I’m barely keeping up as it is. If they did it over fall break, I’d go in a heartbeat. I’m sorry, Jamie. Could we plan something else? Maybe dinner on Thursday instead?” 

“Dinna fash, Sassenach.” Jamie’s disappointment was clear, but he perked up at the prospect of Thursday. “Dinner sounds perfect.” 

As they walked out of the restaurant, he reached out, catching her pinkie with his. They walked for several strides, quiet but happily swinging their connected arms between them, both utterly content in the moment. 

The distillery was a short drive away. They took the standard tour along with the tasting, and Jamie bought a bottle of McKenzie Pure Pot Still Whiskey to take home. Afterward, as they stepped out into the autumn sunshine, Jamie turned to Claire, slipping his fingers through hers. “Care for a wee walk around the grounds? The weather’s sae perfect.” 

Claire nodded, and they walked for a while, enjoying the views of the lake before finding a spot away from the other weekend tourists. They sat down on the grass, and Jamie leaned close, catching Claire’s mouth in a gentle kiss before turning his gaze back to the lake. 

“So, how did ye end up studying botany? Ye heard my story the other night, but I havena really heard yours yet, beyond the snippets that everyone knows.” Jamie sat back, legs stretched out in front of him, relaxed and content. 

“Well, I…” Claire paused. How exactly should she tell this story? _Married at 19 to a cheating bastard, spent 14 years being miserable trying to meet his expectations before finding the courage to leave?_

“I worked as a nurse for many years, but I knew I was ready for a change…” She looked down at the grass before continuing. “So I went back to graduate school after my divorce. I had first thought to study to be a physician, but it takes so long I’d be practically ready to retire before I’d even begun, so that was out.” 

She sighed. “I’ve always had an interest in plants, and with ethnobotany I can study medicinal plants, so when I was lucky enough to be admitted to a PhD program I jumped on it. And, well, here I am…” Claire ended rather feebly, shrugging her shoulders.

Jamie turned and looked at her with sincerity. “Ye would have made a braw physician, Sassenach.” 

All of a sudden, Claire felt her eyes fill with tears and her chin begin to quiver as she tried to stem the tide. The shift in the air was palpable, and Jamie quickly spoke again. “I’m sorry, Claire. I didna mean to say anything hurtful. I only meant to say…” 

Claire cut him off. “No. I’m sorry. I don’t know why I’m reacting like this.” She was cut short by another sob choking her throat, but this time it was met with Jamie’s arm wrapped around her shoulders, pulling her close and whispering soothing words in Gaelic. She took a breath and tried to speak again, managing to get out a few words this time. 

“My ex-husband was…well, not exactly supportive on that front. I think he was afraid that I’d outshine him. He never wanted me to be as educated as he was. He was a professor, you know…” She choked out an ironic laugh at that. “So, it’s rather funny, really—that I should end up as one.” She gasped another breath. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to ruin our day.”

“Och, ye didn’t ruin anything.” He wrapped his other arm around her, pulling her into a hug, offering the protection of his body from whatever emotional storms might shake her. And shake her they did. Claire lost control completely then, crying sloppy tears, unable to stop no matter how much she wished she could. Jamie never wavered, whispering softly into her curls.

_“Cha robh e airidh air a bhith còmhla riut…_

_Tha mi toilichte gu bheil thu an seo còmhla rium…_

_Leig leam do chuideachadh le slànachadh, a ghràidh…”_

“What does all that mean?” Claire reached into her purse for a tissue, trying to calm down while wiping her puffy eyes. 

“Och, just comfort and nonsense. I talk to horses, remember?” Jamie planted a gentle kiss on her forehead. “It’s plain as day that I touched a nerve when I didna mean to. Ye dinna have to tell me anything ye’re no’ ready to say. And…” He reached up, touching her chin with his finger, tipping it upward. “We dinna have to rush this. Ye’ve been hurt. I promise I won’t push ye faster than ye are ready to go. Ye’re in charge here, Sassenach.” 

Claire caught her breath and nodded, leaning in to rest her head on his shoulder. “Sorry about your shirt. I’m afraid it’s rather soaked.” 

“Dinna fash, _mo chridhe…_ ” 

Claire nodded, cuddling closer into his embrace. She felt safe with Jamie, relaxed in a way that she didn’t quite know how to process. He hadn’t reacted to her tears with dismissal. He seemed to genuinely care. And he didn’t mind at all about his soggy shirt. Frank, she thought, would have wanted to change it immediately, or complained if he couldn’t--messy bodily fluids and all. They snuggled for several minutes more on the lawn, quietly enjoying each other’s presence. Claire couldn’t help but notice how solid he felt. How strong. She felt completely protected and safe in his arms, as though nothing could ever harm her. 

Eventually, they drove back to town, and she parked in front of Jamie’s apartment. She turned to him, feeling somewhat awkward in the moment. Would he ask her inside? Was she ready for that? He would be her first since Frank. Oh God, which knickers and bra was she wearing? The red one. Was it trashy? 

_No, stop it_ , she told herself. _It’s not trashy. It’s beautiful and looks great with your skin tone._ Her thoughts played out on her face as they ran through her mind. 

Jamie had been watching her closely since she parked the car. He nodded to himself, then leaned over and kissed her gently. “Thank ye for a wonderful day. I’ll text ye later?” 

She nodded back, not quite knowing what to say. He got out of the car, and walked around the front. She rolled down the window and called out to him.

“Thank you.” 

He nodded, blowing her a kiss before turning toward the door. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "The Bees Knees" is a fictional restaurant, but there really is a distillery that sells a McKenzie whiskey on the lake just as described. I haven't tasted any of their product, so I can't vouch for it, but if you Google "Finger Lakes Distilling" you'll find their website and you can peruse their products. The whiskey Jamie bought is really one they sell. If you search for images, you can find some photos of where Claire and Jamie spent their day in our AU. 
> 
> Translations:   
> He didn’t deserve to be with you. 
> 
> I’m glad you’re here with me.
> 
> Let me help you heal, my love.


	9. So Grateful: September 24, 2020

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jamie was kind. Someone is grateful. A wee mini-chapter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all so much for your kindness and support with my first fic efforts! As always, since this is unfolding in real time, expect a follow up...soon, especially with a mini.

Laoghaire MacKimmie hated her name. Always had. Her mother said it was a nod to her Scottish heritage and she should be proud because it was special and unique, but growing up all it got her were unpleasant nicknames and bullying. She had lived her whole life in upstate New York, never straying far from her home. She was only 33, but already had a daughter old enough to be a Leoch College student. Marsali was the product of a high school relationship Laoghaire would rather forget. Her younger sister Joan was the product of another, different in name but similar in substance and outcome. She felt that she was doomed to attract only the wrong sort of man, which was why she was both stunned and elated to find that none other than Dr. James Fraser had stood up for her with the president of the college! 

She had been lucky to land her job as receptionist in Counseling Services, where students could go to see a mental health therapist. She was in charge of scheduling appointments and tending the front desk, but she had only been hired over the summer and was still figuring things out. She wasn’t used to concerning herself with privacy laws or computer protocols for handling sensitive files. It was all terribly confusing. So when she walked away from her desk the week before, leaving her computer unlocked, she had no idea the trouble it would bring her. A student worker, discovering the unlocked computer, had decided to snoop on her ex-boyfriend’s file and got caught. Both Laoghaire and the student had landed themselves in President MacKenzie’s office in deep trouble. Both got a verbal lashing, but only the student was fired, and as she found out later, that was solely due to Dr. Fraser’s intervention on her behalf. 

She was grateful. Extremely grateful. The hottest, smartest, and kindest man on campus had noticed _her_! She could hardly believe it. Maybe her luck was changing. Maybe for once she would be happy. She imagined herself as his wife, giving him an adorable red-haired baby, hosting parties in their large home attended by all the faculty. She had one chance, and she needed to take it. 

She had dressed in her best: a low-cut, twirly, A-line dress that hit a couple inches above her knee, together with a pair of strappy high-heeled sandals. She brushed her long blonde hair into its natural waves, then watched several Youtube tutorials before applying her makeup. She wanted to get this right. She had to get this right. Finally, she was ready. She took a deep breath and walked right into his office. He was on the phone, but signaled to her to wait. She smiled her biggest smile. 

Hanging up the phone, he stood up and came around the desk before speaking to her. “Ms. MacKimmie, what can I do for ye?” 

“Dr. Fraser, I want to thank you from the bottom of my heart for your kindness.” Laoghaire batted her eyes and smiled. “You saved my job.” 

“Och, ‘tis nothing, lass.” He waved his hand in dismissal. “Everyone deserves a second chance.” 

She took a step closer to him. “It’s not nothing. Not to me anyway. I’m so grateful. I’d do anything to thank you, to let you know how much I appreciate what you did for me.” 

“Well, ye’re welcome. Just learn from yer mistake and move on.” 

He was now very much aware of her, moving closer. He backed up a little, bumping into his desk, but she closed the gap quickly. 

“I’m just so grateful…” 

Out of the blue, she took his hand and brought it up to her breast in a fraction of a second, holding it there before quickly leaning in and planting a sloppy kiss on the lips of one very surprised Dr. Fraser. 

At that exact moment, Claire appeared in the doorway, smiling, and walked in before the scene in front of her could register fully in her consciousness. Once it did, she halted abruptly in her tracks and her smile faded. Her eyes briefly met Jamie’s. Her face went suddenly pale.

“I…I apologize. I didn’t mean to interrupt.” She stammered, then turned and ran back down the hallway as fast as her legs could carry her, heading for the stairs, eventually bursting through the emergency exit, her eyes wet with tears. 


	10. A Sturdy Desk: September 25, 2020

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jamie makes amends and Claire makes a decision.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> With this chapter, the rating of this fic goes to an E. It is absolutely NSFW. If this is not to your taste, there are many other excellent G or T rated fics to read. I suggest you simply move on with your life, taking my best wishes with you.

After the encounter in Jamie’s office, Claire turned off her phone and immediately drove home to her apartment, shaken to her core. She thought she’d accurately read Jamie’s feelings for her, but now she found herself second guessing every interaction they’d ever had. How could she have been so wrong? She thought after their second date that things were moving in a good direction, and she had been feeling more confident and secure. She’d also been feeling sexier than she had in years, especially after the trip to Madame Jeanne’s. Clearly, she had made a horrible mistake, letting her feelings cloud her judgment. Sad and deflated, she spent the evening with a Netflix romcom and a bottle of wine, and woke up with a slight headache, feeling utterly defeated but trying not to care. 

Turning on her phone after she made a pot of coffee, she found a dozen texts from Jamie, all saying some variation of _“Please, Claire, it’s not what you think. Can we talk? Please?”_ She poured herself a cup and considered how to respond, ending on _“Fine. Come by my office at four.”_

Whatever he had to say, it was better said at her office, in a professional space rather than at her apartment. If he was showing his true colors, she needed to put some emotional distance between them, and her office would make that painful task a tiny bit easier. She had opened herself up to him, let down her guard. That’s what hurt the most. It wasn’t only the undeniable physical attractiveness. She thought she had glimpsed his heart. She thought she had seen her own reflected there. Well, no matter. She had been alone for the past five years. Nothing new there. Nothing she couldn’t handle. 

She thought about what to wear. Now that she had tossed all her plain cotton knickers, she had a drawer full of silk and lace that no one but her would ever see. Not exactly practical, she thought, but...why not? She had spent the past five years putting the pieces of herself back together after the shattering divorce. If nothing else, she figured she deserved to feel pretty and wear nice things, even if no one would ever see them. 

Looking through the drawer, she settled on the silver. It looked almost metallic, satin with black piping around the edges. She imagined herself putting on armor, protecting her body, shielding her most private self. She topped it off with a simple navy blue knit wrap dress. Very professional, but stretchy and comfortable. No one needed to know what was beneath it. No one would see her armor. She wrangled her unruly hair into a French twist, holding it in place with a single long comb. 

The work day felt to Claire like it was dragging on forever. She was in no hurry to get to four o’clock though, so maybe that wasn’t such a bad thing. Finally, the last student left, and she made her way back to her office in Lallybroch Hall, unlocking it with the keys on the ring he had given her. A thought crossed her mind that she ought to replace it—since it would only remind her of how kind he had been, and how she still felt in spite of everything.

She sat down at her desk, leaving the door open, and logged on to her work email, pretending to read, but unable to keep up the facade when his knock came on the door frame. 

“Hello Claire.” His voice lacked its usual energy. “May I come in?” 

“Of course. Have a seat.” She gestured toward the chair usually occupied by nervous students, now rendered invisible by Jamie’s large frame. 

“I owe ye an explanation.” 

“No, you don’t.” Claire took a breath, steeling herself for his response even as her own lies left her lips. “What you do with your private life is your own affair. I’m fine. Really. I had no expectations that we were exclusive, so it’s fine. Don’t worry about me. It’s really none of my business.” 

“Please hear me out, Claire. It’s a misunderstanding. Nothing more. Laoghaire…” He paused a moment, brow wrinkling, collecting his thoughts. “She was nearly fired. Ye might not have heard what happened, but she’s new here. She works over in Counseling Services—only started a couple months back. She left her computer unlocked, and some student worker got on and looked up some other student’s files, ye ken. Verra personal mental health information. The student worker was fired, and Laoghaire nearly was.” 

“Sounds to me like she deserved to be fired,” Claire interjected, her voice betraying the slightest edge of jealousy.

“She did deserve it, but ye ken her daughter Marsali? She’s in yer seminar, aye? She’s one of the first-generation students, like Fergus. She’s only here because she gets free tuition from her mam’s job.” He paused, taking a deep breath. 

“If Laoghaire was fired, Marsali would have to leave Leoch, and she might never have another chance for an education. I canna think it’s right that she should suffer for her mam’s mistakes. She’s a sweet kid. Never really had a father in her life. So I went to Colum and talked him out of firing Laoghaire. When ye walked in, she was… well, she threw herself at me. Said she’d do anything to thank me.” He sighed, staring at the floor. 

“So you didn’t…your hand…” Claire struggled to find the right words.

Jamie’s head snapped up; his face was pained as he cut off Claire mid-sentence. “No! She grabbed it and put it there, and before I had a chance to react, there ye were. Ye must believe me, Claire. I dinna care about Laoghaire, and I never have. I did what I did for Marsali’s sake. Nothing more.” His eyes met Claire’s, their fathomless blue pleading with her.

Claire pressed her lips together, trying to compose herself.

“Do ye believe me?”

She looked in his eyes, holding them with her gaze, trying to parse out the truth. A second passed, then another as Claire weighed his explanation as well as what she saw in this man sitting in front of her. Finally, after a silence that felt like years, she spoke. 

“I want to, Jamie.” Nearly whispering, Claire went on, breaking her gaze and staring at a tiny chip in the tile on the floor. “Over the past few weeks, I’ve felt that there was something real growing between us, but when I saw you together it felt like that had been broken, or... maybe was never there in the first place.” 

“I’m sae sorry, Claire, if ye were hurt. I should have picked up on her intentions sooner. It just didna occur to me what she was doing until it was too late. I’m just a daftie, I guess.” Jamie looked up at her as if contemplating what to say next. “If it would help, ask around. Colum can verify what happened with Laoghaire and ye can check with Financial Aid about the college’s policy for children of employees. I’m no’ one to string along a bunch o’ lasses, Claire. I’m no’ that kind of man. I wouldna hurt you on purpose. Ever.” 

Just then, Claire recalled what Geillis had told her about Jamie not dating, the veracity of it sinking in as she did. She nodded, and a slow smile spread over her lips as something shifted inside her, tilting her whole world on its axis. Claire knew in that moment to the marrow of her bones that Jamie was not Frank, that he would _never be Frank._ And with that epiphany came a question: who would she be now? Would she be the same woman she was with Frank? Or would she change the rules, write a new story, and become the woman she wanted to be? 

“I dinna want to be with anyone but you,”he said softly as he looked down at the floor, elbows on his knees, holding his head in his hands, the picture of utter despair. 

She knew then what she wanted, _who she wanted_ more than anything. 

Claire stood up, walked around the desk, and closed the office door, locking it. She turned to face Jamie then, with the tiniest of smirks spreading across her face.

“So, if I understand the situation correctly, this is really a matter of consent. You didn’t consent for Laoghaire to touch you. Am I right?” 

Jamie looked up quizzically. “Aye, I suppose not.” 

“I seem to recall a certain Dr. Jamie telling a large group of students all about the importance of consent.” She pursed her lips and furrowed her brow. “So, if I should want to touch you and kiss you and generally have my way with you, I’d need to get your consent?”

A slow, tentative smile spread across Jamie’s face as he stood up in front of Claire, hungrily holding her gaze. “Aye, Sassenach. Ye would, at that…” 

“Well then, do I have it? Your consent, that is?” 

“Aye,” he answered, his voice low and raspy. “What exactly do ye have in mind?” He brushed a loose curl back from her face and caressed the line of her jaw softly. 

Claire reached down, and took his other large hand, gently bringing it to her left breast, just as she had seen him the day before in his office. Fuck Frank. She was done being passive. She was done being demure and submissive, and everything else Frank’s idealized 1950s version of a woman was supposed to be. She knew what she wanted, and she wanted it desperately. Desire like a supernova, white hot and blazing, sprung up in her, and she reached up around his neck, pulling him down to her mouth. Their lips met greedily, tongues entangling as they began to move backwards toward the desk. She broke the kiss, reached around and shoved the laptop out of the way, scattering stacks of papers that fell to the floor in a mad flurry of memos and reports.

She perched on the edge of the desk, legs spread, and pulled him closer as she reached for his belt buckle, quickly unhooking it. Biting her lip and looking up at him with a cheeky grin, she unzipped his pants, reaching inside to stroke him through his boxers. 

“Do you want me?” she breathed in his ear as he leaned down to kiss her neck. 

“Oh, God, yes…” 

She reached around and pulled the long comb holding her hair in place. He watched the curls fall free as she shook her head, looking back at him with darkening eyes. He pulled the stretchy fabric down, tracing the line of her collarbone as he did, down to her sternum, exposing the silver satin beneath as he ghosted his fingers over her nipple, causing it to harden at his touch. Her breath caught and a sigh escaped her lips as he leaned over, lowering his mouth to take it in through the fabric, soaking it as he went, his hand lightly brushing her mound before reaching between her legs, pushing the flimsy thong aside, and running a finger through her folds before settling into a pattern of slow circles slightly higher up.

“Christ, ye’re so wet for me already.” He let go of her breast to growl in her ear, his breath caressing the delicate skin of her neck as he left a trail of kisses to her shoulder before returning to her collarbone, nibbling it gently. She felt bold, reckless, deliciously debauched, as though Jamie had awoken a part of her that she hadn’t known existed before that day. 

“I’ve been wet for you since the moment I laid eyes on you.” Claire leaned up, drawing him into a kiss, stunned at the rather blunt truth that had escaped unexpectedly from her lips.

“Have ye now?” 

She nodded her affirmation, and with a raised eyebrow and a grin, she untied the wrap dress completely, letting it fall open before slipping her arms out. Jamie stared at her with a look of desperate hunger in his eyes, and it occurred to her that her satin underthings were serving a completely different purpose than she had imagined that morning. She reached back and unhooked her bra, and as she did, Jamie hooked a finger under a strap, pulling it free, exposing her to his hungry gaze.

He leaned close and kissed her again before asking in a voice like velvet, soft and deep, “I want ye, Claire...I want ye so much I can scarcely breathe…will ye have me?” 

“More consent?”

“Well, it is very sexy, after all. Or so I’ve been told.” 

“Yes…I’ll have you,” Claire purred into his ear.

“Do we need a…” 

Claire cut him off mid-sentence. “No,” she said emphatically. “We don’t.” 

She moaned as he pulled back his hand long enough to free his cock from the boxers, then gasped as he roughly pushed aside the thong, and entered her with one long stroke. Bracing his hands on the desk, he began to thrust, gently at first, then with more force as he saw her eager response. Her feet, still sporting sensible-for-work low-heeled navy pumps, wrapped around his waist and locked together at the small of his back as she pushed with her heels to drive him deeper. 

She lay back, resting her head on her closed laptop, arched her back and reached her arms over her head in a sensuous cat-like stretch, eyes closed, savoring the movement as she rocked herself against him over and over in rhythm with his thrusts. He leaned over, taking a nipple into his mouth, sucking and gently biting. Claire cried out as he switched his attention to the other before letting go of both, leaning back and grabbing her hips, pulling her closer. She ground herself onto him, and he reached down with one hand, stroking her in circles while he kept up the rhythm of his cock. It didn’t take long after that for a string of expletives to leave Claire’s lips, accompanied by cries of his name, taking with them the last vestiges of the timid, naive 19-year old girl she had been when she had married. 

She chased her climax as it came over her in waves, followed by Jamie’s own as his tempo became erratic and he finally lost himself completely in her. He leaned forward, panting, and planted a kiss over her heart before turning and resting his head there, listening to its still-rapid beat. She ran her fingers through his hair and laughed a little to herself. Was she really this woman, the one sprawled out flat on her back over her desk, flush with the afterglow of her own pleasure, with her lover still inside her? 

_Yes,_ she thought. _This really is me_ , and a smile bloomed over her face. Never in her wildest dreams…

Jamie slipped out, stood up, took her hand and pulled her up and into a hug, her ear pressed against his pounding heart, still sitting on the edge of the desk. 

“I did tell ye this was a sturdy desk.” Jamie burst out laughing.

“Indeed you did, and a good thing too. I don’t think a wobbly one could have stood up to that.” 

They held a silent embrace for several minutes, punctuated by the occasional kiss, neither wanting to break the spell. Finally Claire took a deep breath and spoke. 

“You’d better get going. Don’t you have to leave for your camping trip?”

He leaned over to kiss her again, this time lingering at her mouth, breathing into it as he replied, “Ye know, Sassenach, I dinna think I care.”

She pulled back slightly, a satisfied smile on her lips.

“But your students do. On your way, soldier.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Note for non-US readers: It is common practice in the US, where the cost of a college education is very high, for colleges to offer free tuition to employees' families (and employees themselves as well). Colleges also band together in groups to offer tuition to the children of each others' employees. Lacking this benefit, most students take out student loans to finance their college education, leaving them with a lot of debt upon graduation. With this in mind, it's easy to see why Jamie might react the way he did in this chapter to the situation with Laoghaire. 
> 
> Also, the weather is gorgeous in the Adirondacks for a camping weekend! Warm days, comfortable nights, so Jamie's group won't get rained out! 
> 
> As always, thank you for reading. Follow me on Twitter. I'm Newbie Becca @Avg_OL_fangirl


	11. A Few Texts: September 28, 2020

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A few texts on a busy Monday.

_< <Hey Sassenach>>_

_< <Hey yourself>>_

_< <I was in Murtagh’s office today. He has a desk exactly like yours. I kept staring at it and thinking of Friday. I couldna help myself. Murtagh thinks I’ve lost it. >>_

_< <OMG did you tell him?>>_

_< <Of course not. He just thinks I’m daft. He has no idea.>>_

_< <I was thinking a lot about it too. I missed you over the weekend.>>_

_< <I’ll just have to make it up to ye this weekend.>>_

_< <Too right.>>_


	12. Phone Message: September 29, 2020

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jamie is the sweetest.

11:30 a.m. 

_*** Hello, you’ve reached the office of Claire Beauchamp, Assistant Professor of Biology at Leoch College. I can’t come to the phone right now, so please leave me a message at the tone. Thank you! ***_

  
_*** Claire, it’s me. Jamie. I saw ye this morning from my office running across campus in the rain, so I brought ye an umbrella, but yer office was locked, so I left it in yer intro lab, tucked behind the computer console. Ye can keep it. I have a collection of them that have been left in the SASS offices and this one hasn’t been claimed for a year, so it’s yers now. I canna have ye getting a head cold now, can I? Have a great afternoon. Bye! ***_

  
_1:15 p.m._

_***Hello, ye’ve reached the office of Dr. James Fraser, Director of Student Academic Support Services at Leoch College. I canna come to the phone right now, so please leave me a message at the tone. Thank ye! ***_

  
_*** Jamie, it’s me. Thank you so much for the umbrella! Mine got lost in the chaos of moving, and I’ve been dodging raindrops ever since. I keep forgetting to get a new one, probably because the only time I ever think of it is when I’m dodging raindrops! Now I don’t have to… You’re really sweet, you know that? I’ve got to get to lab. Talk to you later! ***_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, it's raining in upstate NY today! 
> 
> If you're on Twitter, weigh in on the poll about these wee midweek chapters. It closes at 9 Eastern tonight. 
> 
> As always, thank you for reading!


	13. The Clock Tower and the Moon: October 2, 2020

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jamie and Claire catch up after a busy week, and make plans for Homecoming.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Special thank you to AO3 fic author catrinwrites for inspiration for one particular aspect of Jamie in this chapter. 
> 
> The people have spoken! On Twitter, I took a poll (hope you had a chance to participate) about how people feel about wee chapters dropping occasionally during the week. The overwhelming majority of people were in favor of it, and judging from the comments here, most people here like them too, so expect them randomly. If you want to make sure you don't miss them, bookmark or subscribe. Or follow me on Twitter since I post them there too with moodboards. If this isn't your thing, just wait and read them together with the main chapters. No biggie! If you missed the two wee ones this week, look back and read them first before you dive into this one. I know we all like longer chapters, but there's a limit to how much I can write and actually keep up with my real life job! 
> 
> Find me on Twitter: Newbie Becca @Avg_OL_fangirl

“The view from up here is amazing! I had no idea.” Claire leaned back into Jamie’s arms as she looked out over the quad, with students meandering here and there below, oblivious to their presence.

“Aye, ‘tis. Sunsets up here are beautiful, but tonight ye get a full harvest moon rise as well.” He planted a kiss on her neck, wrapping his arms around her, pulling her closer against his chest. “I’m surprised ye haven’t been up here before. They usually give new hires a tour.”

“I think I was moving into my apartment the day they offered that. Just as well. I’d rather be here with you. And the harvest moon.” She snuggled against him, pulling his arms tighter around herself. At that moment, a very loud BONG broke the silence, followed by several more in a tune. 

“Cover yer ears, Sassenach!” Jamie shouted, laughing. 

She did as told, while the very large clock just above them struck the hour. After the seventh chime, they both uncovered their ears, laughing together. 

“That’s a hell of a lot louder up here than it is down on the quad!” 

“Aye, but the view is worth it, is it not?” He planted a kiss on the top of her head before turning her around to face him. As she tipped her head up, meeting his kiss, they heard laughter from the staircase. Moments later, two students stumbled up onto the observation level of the clock tower, nearly catching Claire and Jamie, who had quickly separated to a polite distance at the sound of them. 

“Dr. Jamie, Milord…” 

The student bowed deep with a humorously exaggerated flourish of his hand, his companion giggling behind him as he did. 

“Fergus. Marsali.” Jamie nodded curtly. 

“We were hoping to catch the sunset. Hi Dr. Beauchamp!” Marsali quickly interjected, which may very well have been true, though their intertwined fingers betrayed other purposes. She let go of Fergus’ hand. 

“It was beautiful. You just missed it.” Claire tried to suppress a giggle of her own at the thought of both student and faculty couples seeking out the same spots on campus for a romantic tryst. 

“Dinna fash. We were just leaving.” Jamie nodded goodbye, then headed quickly for the stairs, with Claire following close on his heels. 

They stepped out into the dusk, their hands quickly finding each other again. By unspoken agreement, they were back at Jamie’s apartment a few minutes later, shutting the door behind them. They both kicked off their shoes, then Jamie stepped close behind her, leaned over and nibbled her neck gently. Claire spun around, her hands immediately starting to work frantically on the buttons of his shirt.

“I want you,” she breathed into his chest. He abruptly and firmly placed his large hand over hers, stopping her efforts to get him out of his shirt. 

“No.” 

Claire looked at him, crestfallen, then shifted her gaze down to the floor, trying to compose herself. Had he changed his mind about her? They had only been together that one time in her office. Maybe he didn’t like it. Maybe she wasn’t enough after all. All her self-doubt came roaring back in the split second it took him to utter that single syllable. 

“You don’t want to? It’s fine… I should probably— ”

He gently lifted her chin with a finger, pulling her gaze back up to his, his eyes holding hers tenderly. “Claire, we have all evening. I want to take my time…is that okay?”

Relief flooded over her, and she nodded slightly, with the tiniest of smiles. Geillis had told her to expect her self confidence to ebb and flow as she moved forward with Jamie, and as always, she was right. Claire made a mental note to thank Geillis yet again for her wisdom. 

Jamie kissed her tenderly, then took her hand, leading her to the bedroom. The bed was already turned down, pillows perfectly fluffed, with candles scattered around the room that Jamie lit one by one. When he was finished, he turned to her and took her hand, placing it back on his buttons. “Now, where were we?” 

Her hands resumed their task as he continued to speak, his voice soft and low as he gently stroked her shoulders. “I have given much thought this week to what I want to do to you. I’ve considered in great detail what I would like to do should I have you naked…and willing…and no students hearing…with enough room to serve ye…suitably.” 

He leaned over, claiming her mouth in a deep kiss. Claire moaned, eventually letting go, but not without gently biting his lower lip as she did.

“Well, I’m willing…and I don’t see Geordie hiding anywhere…and there’s certainly enough room. And as for being naked…” She reached down to the hem of her sweater, but his hands were already there, pulling it up and over her head.

“That’s my job. It’s all part of the plan.” He gave her a half-smile as he slipped out of his own shirt, now completely unbuttoned. Her eyes widened as she looked at him for the first time. He was beautifully made, the planes and angles of his body perfectly proportioned, a testament to countless hours spent working out, all amplified by his height. He towered over her, and she found herself imagining him in another place and time—a warrior. Her fingers stroked through the cinnabar hair on his chest, then followed the trail down, pausing to unzip his jeans. He stepped out of them, kicking them unceremoniously to the side before returning his attention to her. He cradled her face in his hands, long fingers reaching to push back stray curls, only to have them spring forward again. 

“Ye’re sae beautiful, Claire. I almost canna believe ye’re here with me,” he whispered as he leaned down and took her mouth, tongues dancing together as he ran his hands down her back, then cupping her arse and gently kneading it. “God…ye have the best arse in the world…sae round and perfect.”

Her thoughts drifted unbidden…how many times since her divorce had she thought herself hopelessly doomed to a life of solitude, too old and too educated to be attractive to any man? She was beginning to realize how much of Frank’s criticism she had internalized as though it were gospel, when in reality it was only his own narrow opinion. The stunningly gorgeous man in front of her was proof of just how wrong he was. 

Jamie reached up, looping his fingers around the straps of her bra, pulling them down over her shoulders before reaching around to unhook it. He peeled it off and tossed it aside, hands returning to unbutton her jeans, slipping them down and off, along with her knickers. He scooped her up in his arms as though she weighed nothing at all, then lay her down on the bed before positioning himself on his side, his left hand blazing a trail down her torso while his mouth latched on to a nipple, gently sucking. Claire gasped as his fingers traced her folds, stroking gently around the edges.

“How should I touch ye, Claire?” he murmured against her skin. “What do ye like best? It was…amazing…in yer office, but tonight, I want to learn what pleases you.” 

Claire was stunned. Never in her life had anyone asked her what _she_ wanted, how _she_ liked to be touched by a lover. “I…I don’t know.” The words tumbled out, unguarded, the truth of them hanging in the air. 

_“Cha robh e airdh ort,”_ Jamie muttered, then looking at her directly, he repeated himself. “He didna deserve you.” 

After a slightly awkward pause he whispered, “Then we’ll learn together. Promise me something.” 

“What?” Claire was transfixed by his gaze, pupils blown wide with desire. 

“Promise me that ye’ll never just go along with something ye dinna want just because ye think I want it. Promise me that ye’ll stop me if ye arena ready, or if ye just aren’t in the mood, or if something makes ye uncomfortable.” He spoke softly, his sincerity evident from the conviction in his voice, and Claire felt as though he saw into her soul, instinctively understanding how it had been for her through fourteen long years of her marriage. 

“I promise.” Claire smiled and blinked back a few tears that had begun to form at the corners of her eyes. He took her hand in his, and stroked her fingers. 

“Then show me.” Jamie looked down, his voice deep with wanting. “Show me what ye do when ye’re alone, and ye think of me.” He gazed back up again, meeting her eyes. 

Claire hesitated in a moment of flickering doubt. She could instinctively pull back in shame or she could open herself to him and build on the tender trust that had been growing between them from the start. She looked back at him and he smiled the tiniest of smiles, offering gentle reassurance. 

_No,_ she thought. _No turning back. Time to move forward._

She took his hand, guiding his fingers exactly where she needed them most, showing him the movement, the tempo, the pressure… She let go of his hand and he continued, his touch mirroring her own. He leaned over and kissed her deeply while continuing to work her with his hand, perfectly mimicking what she had shown him. It didn’t take long for her desire to build nearly to the breaking point. 

“I want you inside me,” she gasped, hardly able to get the words out. 

“Ye’re sure?” His voice was strained as he tried to control his own desire.

 _“Yes.”_

“And we dinna need a...” 

Just like before, Claire cut him off with a quiet, “No. We don’t.” 

He slipped off his boxers, his erection springing free. He positioned himself, then teased her, stroking the tip over her wetness. Her moan was followed by the sharp intake of her breath as he entered her. She felt the delicious stretch as her body adjusted to his considerable size, before grinding herself onto him exactly _there_ over and over as they found their rhythm together and began to move as one.

Claire tipped over the edge first, spinning into oblivion, crying out Jamie’s name as she did. He followed her, letting out a string of Gaelic before burying his face in her curls, gasping. Afterward, he rolled over, pulling her close. He kissed her forehead as she tucked herself into him, resting her head on his chest. 

“Mmmmm…my whole body feels like Jell-O.” Claire closed her eyes blissfully while her hand reached up to caress Jamie’s jawline. 

“I dinna ken if Jell-O is sentient enough to have feelings, Sassenach, but I take yer meaning.” 

They lay quietly for several minutes, enjoying the afterglow, and the simple pleasure of each other’s presence. Eventually Jamie broke the silence, “Are ye hungry, Sassenach? We forgot all about dinner.” 

“We got distracted.” She pushed herself up onto her elbow, a satisfied grin spreading across her face. 

“Aye, we did at that.” Jamie smirked. “How do ye feel about having some pizza delivered?”

“That sounds absolutely perfect. I’m fine with anything but pineapple.” 

“What? I love pineapple on pizza! With ham? And onions? It’s perfect!” Jamie looked at her with an expression of exaggerated incredulity. “Are ye one of those anti-pineapple people? Because ye ken, this could be a deal breaker for me.” 

“I suppose I’ll just have to gather my things and go then…” Claire huffed and began to sit up on the bed, swinging her legs over the edge, but Jamie grabbed her by the waist, pulling her back, throwing her into a fit of giggles in the process. 

“Ye can take it as a measure of my feelings for ye that I’m willing to go with pepperoni and mushroom instead.” He kissed her, smiling as he did. 

“True love, is it?” she joked. 

“Mebbe.” 

He kissed her on the tip of her nose, then quickly stood up to retrieve his phone from the dresser. 

“Mineo’s is the best in town.” He placed their order, then handed her a robe that was hanging on a hook in the closet. “Is this okay? I dinna think I want ye to get dressed just yet.” He quirked an eyebrow at her, a questioning smile blooming across his face. 

“Looks comfy.” She smiled back, then slipped into it, breathing deeply. It smelled of a mix of laundry detergent, manly-scented body wash, and _Jamie_. She closed her eyes and took another breath. 

He pulled on a pair of sweatpants, and they made their way to the kitchen, where Jamie opened a couple bottles of beer and handed one to Claire. She took a sip, then sat down at the table and watched him putter around in the kitchen, her eyes gravitating to the waistband of his sweats and the perfect curve of his arse. After a few minutes, the doorbell rang, breaking her daydream. He paid the driver, then settled down at the table with Claire. 

“So, do ye have any plans for Homecoming next weekend?” Jamie took a bite of pizza, washing it down with a swig of beer. 

Claire shrugged. “Honestly, I’m not even sure what it is, much less whether I have plans. I’d never heard of it before last week.” 

“It’s verra American,” Jamie said matter-of-factly, gesturing with his beer bottle. “Nothing like it exists in the UK. It’s sort of a weekend festival when alumni come back to campus. There’s the big football game—American football, ye ken, no’ _actual_ football—but there’s also a parade, and a dance, and lots of parties all over campus. Everything from the Sunday alumnae brunch with Colum to the golf scramble and the fraternity beer bashes. Tons of tailgating too. That’s usually before the game. People come to campus and cook barbecue out of the boot of their car. It’s verra strange, but a lot of fun. It’s the highlight of the fall semester.” 

“Sounds like quite the event.” Claire took another sip of her beer. 

“I was hoping we could go together— to the parade and the game, then the dance later…mebbe make a day of it next Saturday. Are ye interested?” Jamie looked at her sheepishly, which Claire found quite adorable. Did he really think she would say no? 

“I’d love to. Let’s give the Leoch rumor mill some new material.” 

Jamie beamed. Neither of them had eaten much of the pizza. “Ye realize that by Monday it will be all over campus that we were alone together in the clock tower tonight…” He leaned across the table and kissed her. “But I dinna think I care.” 

“Neither do I.” She stood up, stepped around the table and positioned herself between his legs. Leaning down, she kissed him thoroughly, tasting the beer and pepperoni on his tongue, then trailed her fingers down his arm until she caught his hand. She turned then, and holding his hand in hers, led him back to the bedroom. 

Feeling emboldened, she led him by the hand and sat him down on the edge of the bed. She slipped off the robe, and stood naked before him as she wrapped her arms around his shoulders, pulling him in. Jamie reached up with one large hand to caress a nipple, which promptly hardened at his touch, while his mouth went to work on the other one, sucking and gently nibbling. 

Claire moaned her approval, running her fingers through his hair. He reached down and slipped out of his sweats, kicking them to the floor, then scooted back on the bed. Climbing over him, she straddled his thighs, and reached down to stroke him, getting a good look for the first time at exactly how large he really was. She ran her fist up and down his length, pausing to stroke the tip gently with her thumb, spreading around the drop that had formed there. She paused, and looked into his eyes, their sapphire nearly eclipsed by the onyx of his pupils. 

They both saw it clearly then: the connection, the undefined _something_ that was taking shape between them. Nothing about this was usual. Nothing about this was ordinary.

Jamie sat up, suddenly flipping her over onto her back. Balancing himself on his elbows so as not to crush her, he gently rubbed the scruff of his jaw against her neck before whispering in her ear. “Please, Claire…I want to taste you first. Is that okay?”

It took Claire a moment to realize what he meant. After a fraction of a second, she nodded. He positioned himself between her thighs and gently parted her with his fingers. Claire hummed as he explored her depths before settling into a rhythm. 

She realized it was the same movement she had shown him earlier—perfectly translated now from the touch of his fingers to that of his lips and tongue. He brought her to the edge quickly, then stopped, moving to gently kiss her inner thighs, only to return to his task a minute later. Once more the pattern repeated…he built her up, took her to the edge, then backed off…leaving her struggling for air and fisting the sheets with her hands, lifting her hips off the mattress in desperate need. 

“Jamie, please…” she begged, her frenzied body seeking release above all else. She was close. _So close._

Just then, he rose up above her like a thundercloud, eyes dark with a primal urgency beyond words. He positioned himself, entered her, and rolled back over, putting her on top again. In full control now, she rode him furiously, hands pressing first on his chest, then his shoulders, then the pillow as she leaned down into his kiss.

He met her stroke for stroke, matching his pace to hers, flexing his hips, building his own desire. She sat up again, leaning back, eyes closed, focused only on the inescapable rising tide of her climax. It hit her then — a tsunami, unstoppable, rolling over her again and again, carrying her to dizzying heights of pleasure more intense than she had ever experienced in her life.

_“Dhia tha thu cho bòidheach, mo ghraidh…”_

She opened her eyes only to find him watching her. He was close, she could tell. Eyes locked, they moved once…twice…three more times before his own thrust lost its rhythm and he let himself go in ragged spurts, giving himself over to her completely, crying out her name as he did, holding onto her as though he never wanted the moment to end. 

Claire collapsed, and Jamie wrapped his arms up to hold her. He slipped out, and they moved to face each other, forehead to forehead, both still catching their breath. He rolled onto his back, pulling her into a gentle embrace, her head resting where his shoulder met his chest. The place where she fit perfectly. The place where she belonged. 

He kissed the top of her head, and they lay together in silence for several minutes, each breathing in the scent of their lovemaking, heavy in the air.

“Stay the night?” he whispered into her curls. “Stay with me, Claire.” 

She nodded and cuddled in closer, settling… 

They both drifted off to sleep then, resting soundly until morning, as the full moon slowly and silently drifted into the west. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translation: God you are so beautiful, my love… 
> 
> There's a full moon tonight, so look up and think of our favorite fictional characters in this AU also watching that same full moon.


	14. Nine Emails, Three Texts, and Some Pear Brandy: October 6, 2020

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dougal and Jocasta contact Claire for different reasons.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am bowled over by the kind words and kudos for this fic. Thank you all for reading and sharing your thoughts. It means a lot to a newbie writer. It really does.

*****

Tue 10/6/20 10:33 AM  
From: dmackenzie @ leoch.edu  
To: cbeauchamp @leoch.edu  
Re: Josiah

  
Dr. Beauchamp: 

I see that Josiah Beardsley is in your first-year seminar group, and he told me he has a paper due on Friday. I’d appreciate it if you could give him some more time to get that done. As you know it’s Homecoming weekend, and he’s one of my best new players. 

Thanks,  
Dougal MacKenzie

  
Dougal MacKenzie, M.A.   
Director of Athletics  
Head Football Coach  
Leoch College  
 _ **GO SCOTS!!**_

*****

Tue 10/6/20 10:45 AM   
From: cbeauchamp @ leoch.edu  
To: dmackenzie @ leoch.edu  
Re: Josiah

  
Mr. MacKenzie: 

While I wish the football team all the luck in the world for this weekend’s game, it would not be fair to the other students for me to extend Josiah’s deadline without extending it for everyone else in the class, and to do that would disrupt the schedule for the entire semester. I’m sure you understand. 

Best regards,  
Claire Beauchamp

Assistant Professor  
Biology Dept.   
Leoch College

*****

Tue 10/6/20 11:02 AM  
From: dmackenzie @leoch.edu  
To: cbeauchamp @ leoch.edu   
Re: Josiah

  
Dr. Beauchamp: 

I realize that you’re new, so maybe you don’t understand how things work here at Leoch. It’s customary for faculty to defer to the Athletic Director when it comes to matters involving athletes, especially football players. In order for my men to be ready to take the field on Saturday, they cannot be distracted. Their full attention needs to be on the game. I trust that we’ve settled things, and Josiah can have his extension. 

Dougal 

  
Dougal MacKenzie, M.A.   
Director of Athletics  
Head Football Coach  
Leoch College  
 _ **GO SCOTS!!**_

*****

11:09 AM

_< <You were right about Dougal. He’s asking me for favors for one of his players.>>_

_< <I’m sorry Sassenach. I wish I’d been wrong about him.>>_

_< <What should I do?>>_

_< <Stand firm. He makes a lot of noise, but he’ll back down eventually. Dinna fash. Are we still good for Saturday?>>_

_< <Absolutely. ;-) >>_

*****

Tue 10/6/20 11:15 AM   
From: cbeauchamp @ leoch.edu  
To: dmackenzie @ leoch.edu  
Re: Josiah

Mr. MacKenzie, 

I’m sorry, but I cannot give Josiah special treatment just because he’s a football player. Please understand that I wouldn’t give special treatment to any student for any activity. It’s not personal. 

Best regards,  
Claire Beauchamp

Assistant Professor  
Biology Dept.   
Leoch College

*****

Tue 10/6/20 1:30 PM  
From: jocasta @ cameronwinery.com  
To: cbeauchamp @ leoch.edu  
Re: Homecoming 

Claire, 

I wanted to let you know that Ulysses and I will be on campus for the Homecoming weekend. We’re staying with Colum and Letitia. I look forward to catching up with you about Phaedre’s progress. Will you be at the President’s brunch on Sunday? 

  
Best,  
Jocasta Cameron

*****

1:35 PM

_< <Jamie, did you get my screenshot?>>_

_< <From Jocasta, aye.>>_

_< <What should I say? I can’t afford to upset her!>>_

_< <Maybe we can just avoid her completely. You dinna have to go to the brunch.>>_

_< <I’ll give her a vague answer later this afternoon.>>_

_< <Dinna fash, Sassenach.>>_

*****

Tue 10/6/20 1:42 PM  
From: jocasta @ cameronwinery.com  
To: dmackenzie @ leoch.edu  
Re: Homecoming 

  
Dougal, 

Looking forward to catching up with you this weekend! Good luck on Saturday. From what I’ve heard, you have a solid lineup this season. Keep up the great work and I might just replace your team bus. See you at Colum’s on Sunday. I’ll make the mimosas! 

Best,  
Jocasta

*****

Tue 10/6/20 2:02 PM  
From: dmackenzie @ leoch.edu  
To: jocasta @ cameronwinery.com  
Re: Homecoming 

  
Jocasta, 

As always, you’re too kind. I do think we’ve got a solid group this year. With William as QB, and that new first-year wide receiver I told you about, we should deliver you a nice win for Homecoming. The only ones giving me problems right now are on the faculty, not the team! See you Sunday. Let’s catch up! Give Ulysses my best. 

Cheers,  
Dougal 

  
Dougal MacKenzie, M.A.   
Director of Athletics  
Head Football Coach  
Leoch College  
 _ **GO SCOTS!!**_

*****

Tue 10/6/20 3:45 PM   
From: jfraser @ gmail.com  
To: jgrey @ gmail.com   
Re: situation

John, 

Any chance you’re free for lunch next week? Off campus? 

Jamie 

*****

Tue 10/6/20 4:30 PM  
From: cbeauchamp @ leoch.edu  
To: jocasta @ cameronwinery.com  
Re: Homecoming

Mrs. Cameron, 

So nice to hear from you. My plans for Homecoming weekend aren’t entirely settled yet, but perhaps we’ll bump into each other at some point. I hope you have a lovely time in any case. 

Best regards,  
Dr. Claire Beauchamp

Assistant Professor  
Biology Dept.   
Leoch College

*****

7:03 PM

_< <Remember that pear brandy I liked so much at the distillery?>>_

_< <Aye, what about it?>>_

_< <I just bought a bottle of it at the market. After the day I’ve had, I really could use a drink!>>_

_< <Ye’ve earned it, Sassenach. Enjoy.>>_

_< <Care to drop by and share a sip?>>_

_< <I thought ye’d never ask. I’ll be right over.>>_


	15. Puttanesca: October 7, 2020

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jamie reveals a little of his past to Claire in an early morning conversation.

6:43 A.M.

“Sorry you have to do the walk of shame,” Claire had an early meeting, and was in the process of attempting to tame her curls into a respectable bun.

“Dinna fash. The only shame is that I didna think to bring a change of clothes last night.” Jamie paused in front of a partly open drawer in Claire’s dresser. “Sassenach, I must say that I verra much appreciate all your wee shiny and lacy things.” He lifted out a black lace thong, eyeing it with admiration.

Claire chuckled. “You’ll have to thank Geillis for that. Before our first date, she made me throw out all my ratty old cotton knickers and sent me to this shop in Ithaca to buy fancies instead.”

“You mean Madame Jeanne’s?” One of Jamie’s eyebrows went up, and he turned to look at Claire with a smirk.

“Yes,” Claire answered, swiping on a bit of mascara. “You know the place?”

“Verra well, actually. I used to live there.”

“Wot?” Claire accidentally smeared her mascara as she turned an astonished look in Jamie’s direction.

Jamie laughed at her shocked face. “Aye. Jeanne owns the whole building, ye ken. When I was first hired at Leoch, I didna have any proper furniture for an apartment, and I had only a week to find a place and relocate, so I rented a room on the third floor above the shop.”

Claire noticeably relaxed and Jamie went on. “She lives in the apartment below it. The room was furnished, which helped a lot, and board was included in the room rent. She would cook and leave food in the fridge for me. I was often out late at work that year. It was helpful to have a bed and a hot meal at any hour, and it was a lot more comfortable than sleeping in my office. She made a fantastic Pasta Puttanesca.”

Claire giggled a little at that, putting in her earrings.

“She had a wee bit of a crush on me. There was this one time when she straightened my tie before I left for work. I swear she would have pulled a Laoghaire on me that day if I hadna taken off just then before she could do it.” Jamie blushed just a little at the memory. “I think she was disappointed when I found a better place closer to Leoch.”

“Should I be worried about the competition?” Claire moved closer to him, wrapping her arms around his neck, pulling him into a kiss.

“Never in life.” Jamie wrapped his arms around her waist, pressing her hips to his own. “I would verra much appreciate ye continuing to patronize her wee shop though….only to support local small business, ye ken.”

“I will. Just so you know,” Claire ran her fingers through his hair gently. “I still have a few things that you haven’t seen yet.”

“Do ye now?” Jamie kneaded her arse, and leaned over to nibble her neck.

“Mmmhmm… they’re for a special occasion,” she purred.

“Today is special…” He gently kissed behind her ear as he whispered.

Claire reached down and gently smacked his bottom. “I have an early meeting, and you need to go home and get changed.”

Jamie groaned his response, then planted one last kiss on her waiting lips before separating. “I know ye’re right, but that doesna mean I have to be happy about it.”

“On your way, soldier.” Claire chuckled as she went back to putting on her makeup.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you don't know the meaning of the name “Puttanesca,” you should Google it right now. You really should. 
> 
> Thank you for reading!! The encouragement from all of you is really making this so much fun to write. I took on the project to work at becoming a better writer, but it's really so much fun, and a great escape from the world right now. Thank you all!


	16. Homecoming: October 10, 2020

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's Homecoming at Leoch College! Jamie has an epiphany at the football game.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The weather in upstate NY is a little warm for October, but still perfect for Homecoming! Rain is expected later, but dinna fash. It won't dampen the fun at the dance. 
> 
> FYI, in this AU, Jamie is not related to William. 
> 
> For non US readers, Homecoming is a tradition at American universities, colleges and high schools and is the highlight of the fall semester. Check out Jamie's description of it in the chapter before this one. At colleges, it usually goes for the whole weekend, with parties beginning on Friday night, and the final events held on Sunday. Parades are common for smaller schools, and tailgating, football (American football) and a big dance are pretty much mandatory.

They spent the late morning watching the parade, eating pulled pork barbecue and drinking beer on Abernathy's lawn, which happened to be on the parade route and only a couple blocks from the stadium. Most of the biology department, along with some others, made an annual ritual of showing up there year after year, and it had evolved into a potluck of sorts, to which Claire had dutifully contributed a loaf of pumpkin bread. Everyone knew Jamie, and he felt at home even though it was his first time there along with Claire. People ate, drank, chased various wayward children, then set up folding chairs to watch the parade as it went by. Strains of _Scotland the Brave_ echoed through the crisp fall air as the marching band, all decked out in kilts, strutted their way toward the stadium, followed by floats from various student organizations, and vintage convertibles that transported the Homecoming King, Queen and their court.

“So, Sassenach, what do ye think?” Jamie took a swig of beer as the last group marched past.

“It’s brilliant! I had no idea such a thing existed.” Claire smiled, taking a sip of her own beer. “Thanks for agreeing to hang out with all the biology nerds here. I felt like I needed to come since Joe’s my department chair and all.”

“Dinna fash. We can walk by the tailgaters on the way to the stadium. That’s usually where I go, but this was great too. Maybe we’ll do it again next year?” He raised a hopeful eyebrow in her direction and she blushed a little in response. He couldn’t help but imagine them back again next year, and the year after that, and the one after that…

They made their way to the stadium a bit late. The game was already a few minutes into the first quarter. John was holding seats for them only a few rows up in the bleachers, close to the 50 yard line—the best in the stadium. From here, they could not only get a great view of the game, but they could see the coaches and players close up.

“So, Sassenach, do ye ken anything whatsoever about American football?” Jamie turned to her with a slight smirk, already guessing her answer.

“Not a thing. Sorry.” She shrugged. “All I know is that it looks horribly dangerous.”

“Aye, that it is. That’s why they keep an ambulance here in case they need it.” He gestured towards the end zone where an ambulance was parked, then cast a sweeping glance over the rest of the stadium. “The team doctor is here as well, but I dinna see him at the moment. Ye’re no’ wrong about the danger. Concussions, sprains, breaks…that’s why they wear so much padding, and the helmets too.”

Claire shook her head in amazement. “God, if I had a child playing, I think I’d go mad. I don’t understand how any parent could let their son play such a dangerous game.”

“Dinna say that too loud, Sassenach. John’s son William is the quarterback for Leoch. I ken he worries.” Jamie leaned over, whispering conspiratorially. “He and Hector adopted William as a wee lad. They’re verra devoted to him.”

“Sorry.”

Almost as though the gods had heard her speak, a loud _“ohhh”_ of shock emanated from the crowd and they turned to the field to see the Leoch quarterback on the ground, doubled up in agony after being sacked by the opposing team. Both teams immediately took a knee while one of William’s teammates helped him off the field. It was clear even from a distance that he was in a lot of pain, and his arm was hanging unnaturally by his side.

Dougal screamed, “Where’s Beaton, goddammit! Someone find Dave Beaton!” The paramedics hung back in the distance, deferring to the presumed imminent arrival of Dr. Beaton, who was nowhere to be found. Claire looked around, then back to William, who was now seated on the bench in obvious pain.

“Jamie, I think he dislocated his shoulder.” Claire turned to John before continuing, “I don’t know where this Beaton is that they’re calling for, but if he did dislocate it, he’ll be in worse shape the more time passes before it’s set. I was a nurse before I got my PhD. I can reset it for him right now in just a few seconds, but I’ll have to act quickly. It’s already swelling, and the longer we wait the worse it will be for William.”

John clenched his jaw in worry, then stood up, looking back and forth from his son to Claire as though considering his options.

“John, ye ken I’d do anything for William, but I think it’s best if I wait here. I’m no’ exactly Dougal’s favorite person. I dinna want to make trouble for ye.” Jamie’s concern was evident in his voice, and John turned to him, placing a hand on Jamie’s arm.

“I understand, Jamie. Don’t give it a second thought.” John shot another quick glance to Claire, who gave a quick nod before rising to go.

“I’m not exactly Dougal’s favorite either at the moment, but I’ll try to help William if I can.” Claire was already down the bleacher steps by the time John caught up to her. He opened a gate and the two stepped onto the sidelines. Jamie watched as the two approached William. He could hear Dougal yelling into his cell phone from his seat in the stands.

“What the hell do you mean you can’t find him?” Dougal continued to rant, his back to William, completely unaware of the two spectators. “Check with the tailgaters! He’s probably still off stuffing his face! Tell him my best QB in years needs his attention if he can spare a moment or two!”

Ignoring Dougal, John and Claire went straight to where William sat. Jamie could see John kneeling and talking softly to William, who nodded before Claire gingerly helped him out of his jersey and took off the shoulder pads. Jamie stood up to get a better view. Claire held William’s arm across his chest, then nodded to him before abruptly maneuvering the arm. The astonished but happy look on William’s face was all he needed to see to know that Claire had been successful in fixing the dislocation. She knelt next to John, apparently giving William some instruction. The lad nodded, smiling and obviously offering his thanks.

By this time, Dougal had slowly become aware of the activity behind his back, and turned to the bench where the three were huddled together. Jamie watched as Dougal spoke to William. Claire immediately stood up, said something back to Dougal, to which he responded by stepping closer to her, angrily yelling and gesturing toward the field. This was met with an undeniably equally angry Claire, who yelled and gestured in return, standing her ground, not budging an inch in spite of being nose-to-nose with the formidable Dougal MacKenzie.

 _Christ,_ Jamie thought, _she’s magnificent when she’s roused._ He was mesmerized at the sight of her, standing toe to toe with the head football coach, not caring that everyone in the stands was watching, giving as good as she got — refusing to cower to him in spite of his physically intimidating presence. His chest swelled with pride, and he felt a lump form in his throat. God, what a fierce wee thing she was…

And then it hit him.

He’d known it for a while now, he realized.

He was in love with her— hopelessly, helplessly, utterly, completely in love with her.

She was a magnificent stew of contradictions…vulnerable and still healing from her divorce, but fiery and intense when challenged — as Dougal was now learning, much to Jamie’s amusement. She was smarter than she gave herself credit for. Brilliant, really. She struggled with self-doubt as a professor, but would stand up for what she believed to be right for her students. She was beautiful — God, she was the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen. Just a glimpse of that lovely round arse was enough to give him a cockstand and leave him achy and wanting when he couldn’t have her on the spot. But it was the whole of her, the paradoxes and complexities, the warp and weft of her, all woven together in this exquisite complex tapestry, this Claire, that caused him to finally understand what his Da had told him when he was a lad: how when he found the right woman, he’d just know it in his bones.

He’d been so lost in thought that he’d hardly realized several minutes had passed, and she was back. John had stayed down on the field with William, now in the process of being examined by the famed Dr. Beaton, who had apparently returned from wherever he had been. Claire stomped up the steps, climbing over him back into her seat.

“Bloody bastard! Can you believe he wanted to put William back in the game?” Claire ranted, her face flushed with anger. “His shoulder hadn’t been set for five minutes, and Dougal wanted that kid out on the field throwing a fucking football with the injured arm!”

“Doesna surprise me one bit, Sassenach,” Jamie answered her calmly. “I told ye that winning is his priority. Now he’ll have to play the second string QB, and his chances of a Homecoming victory just went down.”

“Even if it meant that William might re-injure it and wind up with permanent damage, he’d still put him in? Or that he’d be playing in pain?” She shook her head in disbelief, starting to calm down. “Goddamn bloody bastard.”

“Dinna fash. John’s with him now. He’s faculty, John is, but his brother Hal is on the board, and verra influential in state politics to boot. Dougal’s no’ likely to cross John. He might be a bloody bastard, but he’s no’ an idiot. He kens where his bread is buttered.”

The game went on without any more medical incidents, and the Fighting Scots of Leoch won even with the second string quarterback. Jamie did his best to explain to Claire the difference between a touchdown and a field goal, what exactly a two-point conversion was, and why it seemed, from Claire’s perspective, that the game was constantly being interrupted by committee meetings held on the sidelines. He gently noted that these were time-outs, not committee meetings. But throughout the game, his thoughts kept returning to his epiphany.

_He loved her. He had probably loved her since she cried in his arms three weeks ago._

God, was there any chance that she felt the same? Any chance to build a future with her? Have a family with her? The thought of her holding his bairn in her arms warmed his heart. Maybe two or three? Would they have his red hair or her dark curls? His ruddy coloring or her opalescent paleness? Or something in between?

He tried to picture them, these little people who had taken up residence in his fantasies over the past few hours. Would they be here someday, dragged by their parents to a Homecoming game, wearing tiny tartan hats, cheering for the Fighting Scots of Leoch? All morning at the parade, they had seen alumni and faculty couples with their children all decked out in Leoch plaid: the wee ones looking adorable in a baby carrier on their da’s back, the older ones chasing each other around, all of them trying to catch the candy thrown from the floats, all of them now taking up residence in his daydreams.

*****

They found a table far enough away from the dance floor that it was actually possible to talk. Claire leaned in close to Jamie and planted a quick kiss on his cheek before she murmured, “Are you feeling alright? You’ve been in a fog ever since the game.”

“Och, have I?” he replied. “Sorry. I guess I’m a wee bit distracted by all the festivities.”

The theme for the weekend was, in theory at least, the Roaring Twenties, but after one round of the Charleston, the music had reverted to the usual mix of more modern fare designed to appeal to alums of different generations as well as current students. Claire had tried to go with the theme and wore a dress that was vaguely flapper-esque and sparkly. She had managed to tame her curls too, which she considered a triumph, but none of that was currently occupying her mind at the moment. Jamie was the mystery tonight.

She had noticed a change in him when she came back from caring for William on the football field. It was as though something inside him had shifted. He looked at her differently in a way she couldn’t quite put her finger on. His eyes sparkled as they lingered on her in a way that both warmed her to the backbone and made her shiver at the same time. He smiled a lot for that matter, even more than usual, a ridiculous grin that she found rather adorable. He was distracted, and more than once she had to snap him out of whatever wild tangent to which his thoughts had wandered.

And then there was his touch. Claire didn’t think there was a moment they were together since the afternoon that she was without his touch; whether it was a hand on her lower back protectively guiding her through a crowd, their knees touching under a table, or his fingers resting gently on hers, he seemed to crave a physical connection more than he had before. Not that she minded — she was enjoying every minute — but for the life of her, she couldn’t figure out what had changed.

They had spent the evening mostly dancing and laughing with groups of students and alumni that Jamie knew. It felt to Claire like he knew everyone, and she couldn’t keep track of all the names when he introduced her to yet another one he’d had as a student, now an alum of the class of… _whatever._ Once, Jocasta waved at her, trying to call her over to talk, but Jamie maneuvered her to the other side of the dance floor. Now, thankfully, the Camerons had left the building, along with Colum, Dougal and a few other board members, no doubt headed back to Colum’s residence for drinks in a quieter setting, and Claire could finally relax. Jamie had grabbed them each a glass of wine and they retreated back to their quiet table as Geillis and Louise were leading the enthusiastic crowd in an especially raucous rendition of _Born This Way._

He wrapped his arm around her shoulder, and she leaned into him as they sipped their wine. The music shifted, slowing down. Some people left the dance floor in search of refreshments, while a few couples decided to join in from the sidelines. Jamie set his glass down and turned to Claire.

“May I have this dance, Sassenach?” He held her hand, and bowed as much as his seated position would allow.

“I’d be honored.”

Claire had long ago kicked off her stilettos, which made her acutely aware of their difference in height as Jamie pulled her into an embrace, one hand around her waist. With the other, he threaded his fingers through hers, then brought both up between them as he gently kissed her curls, now beginning to break free from their evening’s confinement. They swayed together, hardly moving from their spot near the center of the dance floor. When the song shifted from something recent she didn’t know to an old classic, _Take My Breath Away,_ Claire felt as though the whole world had shrunk to a pinpoint, with the universe spinning around the nexus of the connection taking shape between them. Never had she felt this way in all the long years with Frank, but she quickly banished his image from her mind. He had no place there ever again.

She tipped her head up to see Jamie’s darkened eyes gazing down at her, the tiniest of smiles on his lips. When she smiled back at him, he closed the gap between them, catching her lips with his. She relaxed and their kiss gently deepened as they continued to slowly move to the music, his tongue swiping gently over her teeth, her pulling on his lower lip... Then time stood still, and she was caught up in the moment, in the effervescent magic of their connection, not knowing nor caring about the world beyond his arms.

The song ended, and they slowly, reluctantly pulled apart. Claire looked around then, and a blush suddenly bloomed on her cheeks as she abruptly realized that they were alone on the dance floor.

The hundreds of students, faculty and alumni who had left the floor without them realizing it erupted in raucous applause from the sidelines, with dozens of rowdy students whooping and yelling _“Dr. Jamie!”_ He waved at them and bowed slightly, his ears pink with his own blush, then, wrapping his arm around Claire’s waist, he led her back to the table where she had left her shoes. From a short distance away, she heard a female voice saying, “I knew it! I told you so!” and turned to see Marsali giving Fergus a gentle punch on the arm.

“I think I’ve had enough dancing for one evening, Sassenach. What do ye think?” He glanced down at her, giving her a gentle squeeze.

“I couldn’t possibly agree more…”

*****

Back at her apartment, he made love to her with a thousand kisses—with hands and lips, tongue and cock, over and over until she shattered into a million glittering bits of pleasure mixed with yearning that mirrored his own. Claire was his Aphrodite, and he worshiped her with a hunger he hadn’t fully comprehended until that day.

Never in his life had he felt anything like _this._ It was beyond his understanding, beyond his imagining. Would it ever stop, the wanting her? The _needing_ her, in every cell of his body, every synapse of his mind…

He spilled himself inside her, and in his ecstasy he looked into her eyes, and found there both the source and the end of his longing.

He had come home.


	17. Yellow and Purple: October 13, 2020

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just a wee thing to brighten your mid-week.

3:48 PM: Lallybroch Hall 

Claire often took the stairs. It was an easy way to add a few more steps to her step-tracker total for the day, and the stairwell was close to her office anyway. But she had never seen Jamie there, especially not looking like a kid caught with his hand in a cookie jar when he opened the door and saw her coming up from the first floor. 

  
“Uh…Sassenach!” He blurted, the surprise evident in his tone, stepping forward and leaving the door close behind him with a loud clunk that echoed in the stairwell. “I didna expect to see ye here.” 

  
“Well, my office is literally two doors down the hall as I’m sure you recall.” She looked up from the papers she was carrying and raised a suggestive eyebrow in his direction before noticing the awkward smile on his face. “Are you okay? You seem a little…I don’t know…a little bit rattled?” 

  
“Och, I’m fine. Dinna fash.” Jamie regained his composure and the two stepped closer to the wall. “’Tis nothing. Ye just took me by surprise... But ye ken I like this sort of surprise, Dr. Beauchamp.” He moved nearer to her, the corner of his mouth lifting into a half-smile. He reached around her waist and pulled her in close to him. 

  
“I rather like it too, Dr. Fraser…” She pressed her hips against his and moved the tiniest bit, grinding herself onto him. 

His breath hitched, and he let out a slight moan as he leaned over to nudge the collar of her blouse aside and nibble her collar bone. 

  
“Mmmm…” she responded eagerly, grinding her hips again, feeling the telltale hardness growing. She leaned up, nuzzled the scruff on his jawline, enticing him into a deep, thorough kiss. 

  
At that moment, the door flung open and two students burst through, taking off at a run up the stairs, laughing at each other, oblivious to the pair that were hidden behind the door, which was now slowly closing.

  
“I should get back to work. Maybe after a cold shower…” Jamie gasped, eliciting a giggle from Claire in response. He gently took her hand, brought it to his lips and planted a soft kiss on her fingers before releasing them and heading up the stairs himself.

“Have a good afternoon, Dr. Beauchamp.”

“You too, Dr. Fraser.”

Thirty seconds later, she opened her office door to find a massive pot of yellow autumn chrysanthemums on her desk, along with a note. 

_Sassenach,_

_Tri-Beta was selling these as a fundraiser, and I thought you’d like one. I figured your very sturdy desk deserved a wee decoration._

_Jamie_

  
Tri-beta? The biology honorary? The one she co-advised? She laughed out loud as she recalled placing the group order with the florist two weeks ago and realized that she had actually ordered these very flowers even if she had no idea at the time. Of course, Jamie knew that. She’d mentioned it to him, which made her laugh even more. Which student sold it to him, she wondered. And the desk… every time she looked at her desk and recalled that day, she felt a warmth gathering between her thighs. It often took all the mental discipline she had to keep her mind on her work. She took out her phone and began to text. 

_< <You are a ridiculous human being! You know I placed the order for these very flowers!>>_

_He responded with a kiss emoji._

_< <Thank you. They’re beautiful.>>_

_< <You’re beautiful, Sassenach.>>_

  
6:00 PM 

Back at her apartment for the evening, the doorbell rang and Claire opened the door to find a delivery man with another huge pot of chrysanthemums, this time purple ones. She signed for the flowers, then took them inside and opened the note. 

_Sassenach,_

_I can’t have you thinking that I’m a floral slacker for having you order your own flowers at the office. Now you have some to decorate your apartment too. I know that I’m ridiculous. You’re still beautiful._

_Jamie_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For readers outside the US: It's not unusual for extracurricular college clubs to do fundraisers of various sorts to help finance their activities beyond any funding they might get from the college. Potted fall mums are a popular fall item for such sales. 
> 
> Beta Beta Beta (aka Tri-Beta) is a national biology honorary society.


	18. Midterms: October 16, 2020

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Plots are hatched, plans are made, favors are called in, grades are turned in, coffee is consumed and everyone comes out clean.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much to all who take the time to read! I deeply appreciate you all. Special shout out to those who subscribe, bookmark and leave kudos, kind words and supportive comments. You give me life! 
> 
> Of course I had a lovely table made up with the "grades" for Claire's students, but the formatting was a nightmare on AO3, and since it's likely to be a problem if you read on your phone, I decided to scrap it and just list the info instead. Each students name, major and grade for Claire's class shows, along with any special notes. Sorry it doesn't show up nice and fancy. I tried.

**Midterm Grade Entry:**

**First-Year Seminar, Section 4, C. Beauchamp, T/Th 9:30 a.m. Stuart Hall, Room 108**

**Abernathy, Leonard:** Political Science, B 

**Beardsley, Josiah:** Undecided, C, Note: Penalty due to late midterm paper

**Beardsley, Keziah:** Sociology, B, Note: Receives disability accommodations (Note taker, ASL interpreter)

**Brown, Alicia:** Undecided, D, Note: Refer to SASS

**Cameron, Phaedre:** Psychology, B

**Claudel, Fergus:** French, C

**Hawkins, Mary:** Pre-law, A

**Hunter, Rachel:** Pre-med, A

**MacKimmie,Marsali:** Biochemistry, C 

**Morton, Isaiah:** Undecided, D, Note: Refer to SASS

**Murray, Ian:** Biology, B

**Wemyss, Elizabeth:** English Literature, C

**Wakefield, Roger:** Religious Studies, A 

*****

  
“Relax, hen. Ye did just fine. Midterm grades are no’ a big deal.” Geillis took a sip of her coffee. She and Claire were enjoying a rare coffee and pastry at Mrs. Fitz’s. The place was unusually empty since most students were already headed home for the short fall break. 

“I had two that really deserved to fail, but I just couldn’t do it.” Claire sighed in frustration. “I gave them D’s and referred them to SASS. It might not even matter. I overheard them talking about eloping together.”

“Ye mean Isaiah and Alicia?” Geillis whispered.

“Yes.” Claire lowered her voice as well. “They sounded serious.”  
  
“No’ much to be done abou’ it. Ye’re no’ their mam. They may be kids to us, but they’re legal adults. Ye canna let yerself get too attached to them, or ye’ll drive yerself crazy.” She took a sip of her coffee and shrugged. “They’ll make their choices and live with them.” 

“My problem is that I see myself too much in them,” Claire muttered, eyes downcast. “I married Frank at 19, and look where it got me.”

“But look where ye are now? And look who ye’re with?” Geillis grabbed Claire’s arm, shaking it for emphasis. “From the look of what I saw at the Homecoming dance, he’s had a keek or two a’ yer purchases from Madame Jeanne’s?”   
  
Claire blushed at that as she took the last bite of her croissant. “You’re not wrong.” Her blush deepened and she continued, “Things are good. Better than good, actually…they’re fantastic.”

“I thought so.” Geillis nodded conspiratorially. “I’ve known him ever since I started at Leoch five years ago, and I’ve never seen him like this. He’s so crazy for you he’s practically glowing! Every time I see him lately, he always has this ridiculous grin on his face, and he lights up like a Christmas tree every time he lays eyes on ye. It’s true!”

Claire’s face suddenly became more serious, and she took a deep breath, summoning her courage. “Geillis, I think I’m falling in love with him. Things are great between us now, but the thought of it scares me. I gave my heart away once and it ended up being the most painful experience of my life.” A tear began to take shape in the corner of her eye and she wiped it away with the back of her hand. “He’s not Frank, I know that. But I’m still me. What if I screw this up somehow? Or we end up wanting different things?” 

“Love always carries risk, hen,” Geillis declared, taking her by both hands and looking her directly in the eye. “Ye’re a grown woman, no’ a child like ye were when ye married Frank. I’ll no’ say there isna a chance that it won’t work out, but the question is, are ye willing to take a chance that it does? Ye dinna want to miss out on a lifetime o’ happiness because of fear.” 

_Lifetime._ A _lifetime_ of happiness. Geillis’ words hung in the air. Was such a thing even possible? Claire had married Frank after Uncle Lamb died, mostly so she wouldn’t be alone, but then wound up with 14 years of loneliness anyway. She fought her way back when she left him, relying on herself alone, never really opening up and trusting anyone. Now, things seemed to be changing. She trusted Geillis. Could she trust Jamie too? Enough to let him in? Let him tear down brick by brick the walls she had built around her heart? 

Claire wiped her eyes again before stammering, “I want to believe it can work out…”  
  
“Then believe it.” Geillis looked up, hearing the bell that hung on the coffee shop door. “And speak o’ the devil…look who’s here.” 

Claire looked up to see Jamie walking in with John. They headed directly to the pastry display case without looking in her direction, so she took the moment to wipe her nose with a tissue and compose herself. 

Geillis leaned in close, “Ye ready to go?” Claire nodded. “How about ye sneak up behind him and give that adorable arse a squeeze on the way out?” 

Claire giggled at the thought, but decided against it after what had happened with Laoghaire. She wasn’t so sure he’d appreciate being grabbed before he knew who was doing the grabbing. Walking up behind him, she tapped him on the shoulder instead. Jamie turned around, and a gigantic smile spread over his face. 

“Sassenach!” He pulled her into a bear hug, lifted her off her feet and twirled her around before setting her back down again, holding her steady until she regained her footing. “I didna expect to see ye here! If there hadna been such a short line to get flu shots I might have missed ye altogether.” He planted a kiss on her cheek, and another on her waiting lips. 

Claire glanced over at Geillis, who was standing there with arms crossed, eyebrows raised and a shit-eating smirk on her face. “Just having a little catch-up with Geillis.” 

Jamie put his arm around Claire’s shoulder, and looked over in her direction. “Geillis, I’m glad to run into ye. Claire has informed me that I have ye to thank for—” He was abruptly cut off by Claire elbowing him in the ribs. “— oof. Um. Weel, thank ye. Claire can explain.” 

“That’s okay, lad. I think I ken yer meaning _exactly,_ ” Geillis gently taunted them both. 

“See you tonight?” Claire purred, her voice low. 

“I canna wait.” Jamie planted another kiss on her cheek.

“Nice to see you again, John,” Claire interjected as she and Geillis turned to leave. John nodded and waved, but quickly turned his attention back to the coffee menu. 

*****

“You two seem to be quite the item,” John observed as Claire and Geillis walked out of the coffee shop. He picked up his double espresso and apple danish and headed for a table. Jamie followed close on his heels, carrying his latte and lemon scone. 

“I’m crazy about her, John. I’m no’ gonna lie. She’s…Christ, she’s everything I’ve ever wanted. My thoughts are sae full o’ her that I’m a wee bit daft a’ the moment. Ye’ll just have to bear wi’ me.” Jamie chuckled, tapping the sugar packet as it spilled its contents into the mug. 

“Well, I think it’s fantastic,” John volunteered as he took a sip. “I can’t remember ever seeing you so happy. And I’ve got to say I’m impressed with her too, not only for how she took care of William last week, but how she stood up to Dougal as well.” 

“Christ, isn’t she wonderful? Such a fierce wee thing. I canna believe she’s wi’ a big numpty like me.” Jamie shook his head in disbelief, a wide smile on his face. 

“She obviously sees you for the honorable, intelligent man that you are,” John mused, staring at his espresso with a faraway look on his face, before quickly composing himself and continuing, “So you said you wanted to talk to me? Off campus?” 

“Mmphm…” Jamie swallowed his bite of scone and took a sip of his latte. “It has to do with Claire, and no’ just that I’m a blethering eejit for her. She didna just have a stramash wi’ Dougal. She’s dodging Jocasta right now too.” He leaned forward, lowering his voice. “Ye ken how powerful she is. Claire has her daughter in her FYS, and Jocasta’s been pressing her for details of how Phaedre’s doing.” 

“Which is against FERPA.” John immediately grasped the situation. 

“Which is against FERPA. Exactly,” Jamie echoed. “And…Dougal isna just upset because of William. She had a wee run-in wi’ him over an assignment deadline for his new wide receiver. You know Dougal and Jocasta are thick as thieves.” 

“And you’re afraid they’ll join forces and try to get Claire fired?” John frowned as he took another sip of his espresso. 

“If Jocasta turns the rest o’ the board against her, she’ll never make it through the year, much less get tenure.” Jamie stabbed his finger on the table for emphasis. “I canna lose her, John. I _willna_ lose her.”

John took a breath, considering his words carefully. “You realize you could be putting your own career at risk if they turn against you too. You can’t afford to make enemies. You’re not technically faculty anymore. You’re administration. You don’t have tenure. And you know that Colum’s grooming you to take over the presidency when he retires…but only if the board approves.” 

“I ken, which is why I’m talking to you now, to try to head things off before it comes to that.” 

“What exactly do you want me to do, Jamie? You know I’ll do whatever is in my power to help, but I’m not sure exactly what you’re asking of me.” 

Jamie had the feeling John knew _exactly_ what he was asking, but he wanted no misunderstandings in any case. He looked him directly in the eye and confided, “I want ye to talk to Hal. Tell him how Claire helped William. Tell him how Dougal and Jocasta are pressuring her. If it comes to it, I want him to use his influence with Colum.”

John nodded, his brow furrowed as he took in what Jamie was asking. 

“I hope it doesna come to it, but with as much pull as Hal has on the state level, he’s as powerful as the Camerons and ye ken it.” Jamie leaned in, pressing his case. “Ye ken Leoch has been getting nice healthy development grants because of Hal’s influence in Albany, no’ to mention his own personal contributions to the endowment.” 

“Jamie,” John answered slowly, “I’ll do what I can, but that’s a pretty big ask... one that could have long-lasting implications for Leoch.” 

“Good God, man!” Jamie’s voice rose as he spoke. “What Dougal’s asking is completely unethical! Ye saw him on Saturday. Ye ken what kind of a man he is. And Jocasta? What she’s asking is flat-out illegal! She’s askin’ Claire to commit a federal crime!”  
  
John gestured for him to calm down, lower his voice; people in the shop were beginning to stare. Thankfully, Jamie didn’t recognize any of them. No Leoch people, thank God. He pursed his lips and nodded his acquiescence, then John continued, “I’ll talk to Hal. Keep him in the loop. Just in case…but let’s hope it doesn’t escalate to that level, okay? And I’ll make a point of telling Colum how helpful Claire was with William.” 

“Thank ye, John. Truly. It seems I’m forever in your debt.” Jamie blushed slightly at that. 

“So it seems.” 

*****

  
Claire peeked out the window when she heard the knock on the door, and saw Jamie’s car. He was early. She wrapped the towel around her, tucking it in at the top, then eased the door open, using it to shield her body from the casual gaze of any neighbors who might be out. 

“You’re early.” 

“And this is a problem—why, exactly?” Staring at her standing there in her towel, the corner of his mouth lifted into that sexy half-smile that drove her mad. His eyes moved down her body, pausing where her hand was holding the towel in place. 

“I just got back from a run,” she countered, wrinkling her nose. “I’m sweaty and disgusting! I was about to take a shower.” 

“I dinna think it’s possible for ye to be disgusting, Sassenach. Sweaty, aye, but never disgusting.” Jamie reached up and brushed an errant curl from her face. “Would ye care for some assistance wi’ that shower?”

“Perhaps…” She walked away from him toward the bathroom, swaying her hips as she went. “Bolt the door.”

Jamie wasted no time in stripping down, leaving a trail of discarded clothing in his wake. He stepped into the shower a few seconds after Claire, who was standing under the spray, allowing the water to run down her face and soak her hair. He slipped in behind her, quickly closing the gap between them and wrapping his arms around her, pulling her flush against his chest. She wiggled her arse a bit, feeling him right there, growing harder with every move she made. 

“The shampoo is there on the shelf. I believe I was promised assistance.” Claire smiled to herself. “Work it in gently, and try not to tangle the curls.” 

“Hmmm…I wasna planning to be particularly gentle, Sassenach, but as ye wish.” He tunneled his fingers through her hair, rubbing circles on her scalp. 

“Cheeky.” 

Jamie softly worked the suds through her hair before carefully positioning her under the spray to rinse. He did the same thing with the conditioner, working it from root to tip with attentive, delicate movements of his fingers. 

“Mmmm…” Claire moaned, “If your current career doesn’t pan out, you might consider working at a salon. You’re giving me tingles.” 

“Oh, am I now?” The last of the conditioner flowed down the drain, and Jamie started with the body wash, carefully working over her arms before reaching around to cup her breasts with soapy hands. “I think these require extra attention. Ye were verra sweaty, after all.” 

Claire’s gasp devolved into a groan as his fingers slipped over her, catching her nipples between them as he stroked. Jamie reached one hand down, gently parting her and beginning to run his fingers over her creases. “And here too…but dinna fash. I plan to be verra thorough.” He nuzzled her neck, his words thrumming over her wet skin. 

Bracing herself with her arms on the walls of the shower, she bent over slightly and pressed back into him, keenly aware of his erection. She began to slowly move her arse up and down over his length, teasing him. She reached one arm back, and gently grabbed hold of his balls, rolling them slowly between her fingers as he let out a groan of pure lust and want, then released them and repositioned herself in the spray. 

“God, Jamie…please…” He settled himself in and slowly entered her, pushing himself into her inch by inch. Claire knew she was ready for him, hot and swollen, wet beyond the droplets that flowed over them. She had been thinking about him on her run, fantasizing about tonight, imagining the feel of him stretching and parting her, pushing deeper again and again. 

They fell naturally into a rhythm, moving as one. He snaked one arm around her, between her thighs, the other gently pinching a nipple as he trailed kissed from the arc of one shoulder blade to the other. She was close. So close. 

“Harder!” she breathed out. He grabbed her by the shoulders for leverage, and began to slam into her with increased force. Later, in the afterglow, her mind would return to that moment, marveling at her own lack of inhibition. In her marriage, she never would have dared — not that it would have mattered much anyway. But in this moment, she only gasped and crashed herself back onto Jamie again and again, meeting his aggressive pace with her own. Claire felt her knees go weak as her climax enveloped her, but he caught her and steadied her as his own took hold. They stood there together for a long moment, breathing the steamy air, before he slipped out, and she turned around. 

_“Gach latha bidh mi a ’tuiteam ann an gaol leat beagan a bharrachd, mo chridhe,”_ Jamie whispered into her sodden locks, pulling her closer to himself, resting her head on his shoulder.

Later that evening, after a simple shared omelet for dinner, they curled up on the couch together and watched a comedy on Netflix that neither of them would recall the next day. Jamie spent the evening preoccupied with tracing the veins on the back of Claire’s hands, while she found the sound of his heartbeat under her ear as intoxicating as the bottle of wine they shared. 

They made love again in the darkness, without words. There was no need. They found each other then, deep in the night: each glowing with a light from within, each clearly seeing the other. 

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> FERPA is a privacy law that focuses on educational records in a similar way that HIPAA focuses on medical records. It's a federal law that (among other things) prohibits college faculty from discussing anything with parents of students. This can often come as a shock to parents who routinely would go to parent-teacher conferences when their children were under 18 and in primary/middle/high school and get updates on how their kids were doing. Suddenly being cut off is often quite frustrating for parents, and can actually be problematic if a student is in crisis.
> 
> Translation: Every day I fall in love with you a little more, my heart. 


	19. Three Emails and a Sigh: October 20, 2020

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The chapter title says it all...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all again so much for your kind words and simply for reading. One of the most satisfying things about writing for AO3 (as opposed to slaving away on unrelated projects) is that I get immediate feedback and warm fuzzy feelings, which is fantastic, and definitely good for my endorphins! So, thank you. You are all angels. Look for more updates this weekend. 
> 
> I also *think* I finally figured out how to post moodboards here too instead of only on Twitter. Whoo-hoo! Thanks to Bel and era.r for the help!

Tue 10/20/20 3:45 PM  
From: DougalMac @gmail.com  
To: lfitzroy1744 @yahoo.net ; wileyphil @gmail.com  
Re: dinner 

Hey, 

I need to see you both asap. It’s important, but it’s best discussed in person. Would you be free this Friday? Meet me at the Thief’s Hole Tavern at 7? Their burgers are fantastic. My treat. 

Dougal 

  
*****

  
Tue 10/20/20 4:30 PM  
From: jocasta @cameronwinery.com  
To: cbeauchamp @leoch.edu  
Re: Parents Weekend 

Claire, 

Sorry I missed you at Homecoming. Just wanted to let you know that I’ll be there for Parents Weekend in November. I understand that you have office hours on Fridays. I’ll plan to drop by your office at 4, so mark me on your schedule for that time. See you soon. 

Best,   
Jocasta Cameron 

  
*****

  
Claire sighed. She couldn’t put off meeting Jocasta forever. And she couldn’t keep bothering Jamie. Things were different now. She wasn’t just a new employee looking for advice from a colleague. It wouldn’t be right to exploit their relationship and expect him to solve her problems. She needed to stand on her own two feet, and figure out the situation on her own. On another front, things with Dougal had simmered down since Homecoming. She hadn’t gotten any more emails from him since their confrontation on the field either, so maybe it was a good thing that she stood her ground. He seemed to have taken the hint. Maybe it would work out with Jocasta too. 

  
*****

  
Tue 10/20/20 4:40 PM  
From: cbeauchamp @ leoch.edu  
To: jocasta @ cameronwinery.com  
Re: Parents Weekend

Mrs. Cameron, 

Thank you for getting in touch to set up a time to meet. 4:00 on November 6 sounds fine to me. My office is 208 Lallybroch Hall. I look forward to seeing you again. 

Best regards,  
Dr. Claire Beauchamp

Assistant Professor  
Biology Dept.   
Leoch College

  



	20. Birthday: Oct 22, 2020

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jamie realizes a little late that Tuesday was Claire's birthday.

11:00 AM

_< <Sassenach, why didn’t you tell me your birthday was Tuesday?>>_   
_< <It’s okay. I didn’t want you to make a fuss. Birthdays aren’t a big deal to me.>>_   
_< <It’s a big deal to me.>>_

  
12:05 PM 

As Claire sat down at her desk and stirred her mug of soup, blowing on it to cool it down, there was a knock on her open office door. She looked up to see a dozen male students, all grinning at her. She put down the mug.  
  
“Gentlemen, how can I help you?” She smiled, thinking that it was probably a fraternity thing…either a joke of some sort, or a fundraiser. Well, the sooner she dealt with it, the sooner she could get back to her lunch. 

  
The leader stepped in, followed by the rest of the group who all crowded into her small office.

  
“Dr. Beauchamp, we have something for you.” 

  
Before she could say a word, the whole group burst into song, singing _Happy Birthday_ , but modifying the lyrics to _“Happy Belated Birthday to You…”_

  
Growing up without much in the way of family, her birthday celebrations were minimal at best. Frank had always considered them a bit frivolous, something concocted by greeting card companies to increase sales, and since she’d divorced, she barely even noted the day. If she remembered, she usually got her favorite take-out, but that was the extent of it. Why bother?

  
She realized now they were the men’s a cappella group—she couldn’t recall the name—but she remembered them from Homecoming when they sang while riding on a float in the parade. Of course this was Jamie’s doing. How had he managed to get them together so quickly? Her smile grew wide and she clapped as they finished. 

  
But they weren’t finished. They kept singing. They launched immediately into _You've Got a Friend in Me, Uptown Girl_ and finally _I Swear_. It was this last one that caused a lump to form in Claire’s throat, and the blood to drain from her face. Had Jamie picked that song in particular? Or was it just one of the standard songs in their repertoire? They’d obviously practiced it quite a lot. Did it actually mean anything? Or was she making too much of a simple birthday gesture? 

  
By the time they’d finished, her thoughts were a jumble: a mix of hope tempered with anxiety, joy with her instinctive caution, all topped off with her awkwardness at any sort of celebration in her honor. She applauded again politely, and complimented them on their talent. The leader had pulled out a piece of paper, his brow furrowed in concentration. 

  
“Uh…I’m supposed to read this to you. It’s from Dr. Jamie. He says ‘Happy Belated Birthday Sass… uh… Sass-eh-natch?’” 

  
“Sassenach,” Claire gently corrected, “It’s okay. It’s a funny word. Thank you!” 

  
The leader nodded and pronounced it again correctly, then the whole group took a bow and left, each wishing her a happy birthday as they went. Claire picked up her phone. 

_< < You didn’t have to do that.>>_   
_< <I know I didn’t. I wanted to.>>_   
_< <It was very sweet. Thank you.>>_   
_< <You deserve a wee bit of fuss for your birthday, Sassenach.>>_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You'll all laugh at me I'm sure, but as I saw all the "Happy Birthday Claire" memes floating around on OL Twitter the other day, it hadn't occurred to me that I should probably acknowledge it somehow in my "real time" fic!! It dawned on me a little late as I was working on something else, so I sort of threw this together in a hurry. If it's a little rough, it's because I haven't had the time to fuss over it as I usually do for a chapter. Expect more this weekend, but for now, I hope you enjoyed the impromptu chapter!
> 
> Also, I've uploaded all the old moodboards, so if you want, you can go back and have a look.


	21. Ill Wish:  October 23, 2020

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Not everyone on campus wants our favorite couple to be happy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading!! I love seeing your comments and kind words.

  
  


_**12:15 PM Campus Pastor's OFfice** _

Geillis was about to sit down for a quick lunch at her office in the chapel when she heard a knock on her door. 

  
“Come in,” Geillis answered. The door opened and Laoghaire MacKimmie stepped in hesitantly. Her eyes darted between Geillis and the floor, and her hands fidgeted nervously.

  
“Have a seat.” Geillis gestured to a small couch. “Ye’re Laoghaire, right?”

  
She nodded in response, smiling just a little. 

  
“I remember meeting ye at new employee orientation. Ye’ve such a grand Scottish name. I love it! What can I do for ye?” Geillis settled back into her chair behind her desk. 

  
Laoghaire sat down, still wringing her hands anxiously. “I heard you were Wiccan. Is that true?” 

  
“Aye, it is.” 

  
“So you do…spells and things? To help get what you want?” She finally mustered the courage to meet Geillis’ eye. 

  
“Weel, it’s no’ like a vending machine. It’s more about putting out energy into the universe.” Geillis was used to this sort of questioning and wasn’t offended by it. It usually had more to do with some situation in the person’s life that needed her pastoral care than with anything else. She continued, “Why don’t ye tell me what this is really about? What’s on yer mind?” 

  
Laoghaire sat quietly for a moment, then took a deep breath and began to speak. “A couple years ago, I went to this psychic at the county fair. She’s real, not like those fakes you see on TV. She has a real office at her house and everything. She was just at the fair for the week. Anyway, I wanted to know why I keep attracting jerks. I have two daughters, and both their fathers are total assholes.” Laoghaire stared at the floor. “So this psychic, she read my cards and told me that I was going to meet someone really special… and I have! I met him here! He fixed everything for me when I thought I was going to be fired. He’s so handsome and kind. But…” She paused. 

  
“But what?” Geillis gently prodded. 

  
“But he’s started dating someone else," she lamented, her voice becoming a little louder. "I saw them together at Homecoming, and it’s all wrong. He’s the one the psychic told me about. I can feel it! I just need a spell or a charm or something…to make him dump her and realize that he should be with me! She’s not right for him. He’ll never be happy. I saw her yell at the football coach and she seems like a real bitch, but I need to get her out of the way so I can help him see how perfect we are together.” Laoghaire visibly relaxed, and looked up at Geillis. 

  
“We even kissed once,” Laoghaire smiled, remembering, “and I let him touch my boob, but _she_ interrupted us…after that everything fell apart. I need to get him back, to make him see that we’re meant for each other. Will you help me?”

  
Geillis understood exactly who Laoghaire was talking about, having had numerous conversations with Claire. It wasn’t unusual for her to have situations where she knew far more than the person sitting in front of her, and it was always a delicate matter to try to provide the support that was clearly needed without betraying the confidentiality of the other party or make the overall situation worse. 

  
“I can try to help, but it might no’ be in the way ye think.” Geillis smiled gently, holding Laoghaire’s gaze. She took a deep breath and explained. “The thing is, Wicca doesna have many rules, but one rule that we do have is the Law of Three. It says that whatever ye put out into the universe will come back to ye threefold. That’s why ye never ill wish someone, no’ even yer worst enemy.” 

  
Purposefully shifting her voice to a more upbeat tone, Geillis continued. “What I can do is to teach ye a self-blessing ritual and some loving-kindness meditations. It will help ye bring some positive energy into yer life, and that’s the best way to attract the type of man ye need, even if it isn’t this particular one. The self-blessing can even be done with herbs if ye’d like to explore that.” 

  
“But…I know Wiccans do curses," Laoghaire protested, pouting slightly as she wrung her hands. "I saw a step-by-step video online using some plants and a spell to say over them, but I thought you could help me do it right. I wasn’t sure about trying it on my own." She frowned furrowing her brow. “The lady in the video said she was Wiccan. She was dressed up in robes and even wore a pentacle!” 

  
“I’m sorry, but that’s jus’ no’ right.” Geillis gently corrected, shifting in her chair a little. “Unfortunately, there’s a lot of fakes out there on the internet and it sounds like ye found one of them. Whatever ye do, dinna send them any money. I never do curses or ill wishes, and people who do are only hurting themselves in the end.” 

  
Geillis paused a moment, letting her words sink in. “If ye’re really interested in Wicca, the campus group does an open ritual every full moon. This month it coincides with Samhain, which is sort of like Memorial Day but for yer ancestors. Ye’re welcome to come and watch if ye’d like.” 

  
Laoghaire sighed. “Thanks. Maybe. I’d better get back to work. My lunch break is nearly over.” 

  
“There’s a lot of bad actors out there. Be careful online. Lots of people jus’ want yer money and nothin’ else.” Geillis reached in her desk and pulled out a small pamphlet. “Here’s some basic information on Wicca that might help ye get started if ye’d like.”

  
“No thanks, I think I’ll just stay Catholic.” Laoghaire said flatly, turning to leave the office. 

*****

_**7:00 PM The Thief’s Hole Tavern** _

Dougal waved as he saw them walk in, beckoning them to his table. “Louis…Phil…” he nodded, reaching out his hand and smiling. He wasn’t crazy about either of them, but they suited his purposes well enough. Both of them always looked like they stepped out of an issue of GQ, dressed in the latest fashion-not exactly manly in Dougal’s opinion, but his opinion didn’t matter at the moment. He needed them, and was prepared to tolerate whatever was necessary to get what he wanted. 

  
“Dougal, good to see you, man. It’s been a minute.” Phil Wiley released Dougal’s hand and sat down. 

  
Louis Fitzroy reached across the table to shake Dougal’s hand before settling down and waving for the waitress to bring them some beer. “It’s not every day I get a call to meet with the best football coach in all the Division. That was quite a victory at Homecoming. It’s a shame you lost your QB so early.” 

  
Dougal clasped his hands together on the table. “Actually, that’s the reason I asked you both here, but first, anybody want something to eat? It’s on me. The burgers here are really good, but get whatever you want. My treat.” The three perused the menus for a minute, then Dougal gestured for the waitress, who came back and took their food order. Once she was out of earshot, they settled into their chairs. 

  
“So you were saying… your QB? What the hell can we do about your quarterback?” Phil asked, looking a little lost. 

  
“It’s not the quarterback,” Dougal murmured as he leaned a little closer over the table, “It’s that woman.” 

  
“The one who reset his shoulder?” Louis smirked and raised an eyebrow. “And then read you the riot act in front of a few thousand fans?” 

Dougal scowled. “The very one. I need her to learn some manners.” 

  
Phil and Louis both let out a small chuckle at that. Dougal went on, business-like. “She’s new faculty of course. Biology. Not only did she undermine my authority on the field in front of my men, she’s not being cooperative about her pissy little assignments for that ridiculous First Year Seminar course either. Wouldn’t budge an inch for a simple deadline.” He took a sip of his beer before continuing. “Thinks she’s special because she’s fucking the golden boy of Leoch.” 

  
“Fraser?” Phil drawled, his voice dripping with sarcasm. 

  
“You guessed it. She’s been spreading her legs for him for a few weeks now. Or so I’ve heard.” 

  
“Do I detect a little jealousy in that voice, Dougal? She is awfully easy on the eyes. I wouldn’t mind lifting her skirts myself.” Louis snorted then lowered his voice and leaned in. “She has mighty fine tits too. I was at a meeting once, and she bent to pick up a pen off the floor. I got a nice view. Real nice. Had on this red lace push-up bra. I’d never have guessed she’d be the type for that. If we’d been alone, I might have made a move. Fraser’s a lucky bastard.” He leaned back, his voice returning to normal. “So I get the jealousy, Dougal. I really do.” 

  
“I’ll admit I wouldn’t turn down a chance to grind her corn…” 

  
“Good God…” Phil rolled his eyes. “You and your Midwestern farm-boy lines. You want to roll her in the hay too?”

  
Dougal glared, but kept his composure. He needed them both on board and couldn’t afford to piss them off. “Let’s just say that I’d fuck her brains out if given the opportunity. Are you happy now?” 

  
“Oh, immensely.” Phil took another swig of his beer. “Anyhow, what do you expect us to do about her?” 

  
“I plan to file a grievance with the faculty council.” Dougal lowered his voice. “She had no business on the field that day. I’ll play it up to make it sound like a safety hazard. They always make a big fucking deal about safety hazards around here.” Dougal paused for a moment, collecting his thoughts.

  
“When I file the grievance, she’ll have a hearing with the personnel committee when they meet in November. I want her humiliated at that hearing. She needs to learn her place, or she needs to go. At the very least, I want her censured by the committee. Best would be they threaten to fire her. I’ve got to have something that will stick when the little witch comes up for tenure.” Dougal gestured with a pointed finger on the table, his voice dripping with contempt. “What I need you to do is to make a few discreet calls to a few on the committee. Off the record. Let them know that you expect _them_ to support the athletic director. Let _her_ know she either gets in line or she’ll lose her job. Rough her up a little at the hearing. Put the fear of God in her.” 

  
“Or at least the fear of you…” Louis laughed. 

  
“At the very least,” Dougal responded, calmer now that they both seemed to grasp the situation. “Forbes and Brown from accounting are up for tenure this year. So’s Bain from religious studies. I’m sure they could be persuaded. Bain’s an asshole, but he’ll fall in line. Don’t bother with Gowan. He’s a fossil. He’ll probably sleep through the whole thing. The rest are sheep. They’ll follow the lead of Bain and the others.” 

  
“Look at you, showing the little witchy-bitch who’s boss…” Wiley crooned. 

  
Dougal grinned. “It’s a tough job, but somebody’s got to do it.”

  
The food arrived, and the three settled in to their meal, with Dougal regaling them with details of the game from his perspective, embellishing his own role a little. It couldn’t hurt. They lapped it up like kittens with a saucer of cream. He knew their type. Never athletes themselves because they lacked the discipline, they still wanted to associate with the team. Lazy-ass pussies, Dougal thought, smiling sweetly at them. 

  
“I’m hoping Jocasta will take my side too,” he announced casually, observing their reaction. Jocasta was powerful, but fickle, and Dougal didn’t know if he could trust her on this. She had a soft spot for Fraser. And of course she was a woman. 

  
“Have you thought about her husband?” Louis asked. “Maybe try him instead.” 

  
Dougal shook his head. “No go. He’s straight as an arrow. He doesn’t talk much, but he’s strictly a by-the-rules kind of guy. She’s more of a player, but I need to schmooze her. She has her own mind. Requires delicate handling.” 

  
Phil scoffed, “God, don’t they all…” 

  
Louis and Dougal laughed at that. 

  
“What about Fraser, though. Will he be a problem? Isn’t he Colum’s pet now?” Louis asked, wiping his mouth delicately with his napkin. 

  
“I’ll admit there are rumors that Colum is grooming him to take over the presidency when he retires,” Dougal agreed, his own mouth still full with a bite, “but God only knows when that will be. We’ll cross that bridge when we come to it. I wouldn’t mind that job myself. It would do the college good to have someone who actually understands athletics in the presidency.” 

  
The dinner wrapped up with Dougal picking up the check, quickly silencing the rather unenthusiastic token offers from his companions to go Dutch. They went their separate ways, with Phil and Louis promising to pressure the committee members on Dougal’s behalf. When he finally arrived home, Dougal tossed back two shots of bourbon before settling in to watch some video of the football team’s next opponent.

*****

_< <Did you leave me another tiny bouquet?>>_

_< <No, Sassenach. What are you talking about?>>_

_< <Oh, it’s nothing. There were a few plants and twigs tied together with some string on my doorstep when I got home today. It must be something left by the neighborhood kids.>>_

_< <Are you caught up with work?>>_

_< <Not really. I have a ton of lab reports to grade tonight, and another stack of essays tomorrow.>>_

_< <Think you might be up for a little late night adventure tomorrow? Give you a break?>>_

_< <Hmmm…I could be tempted.>>_

_< <I’ll pick you up at 11. Bring a towel.>>_

_< <???>>_

_< <Trust me, Sassenach.>>_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Note on Wicca: I am not Wiccan, but I have a couple friends who are pagan. The "Law of Three" is a common feature of many types of paganism in general and similar to karma as a concept. 
> 
> Note for non-US readers: It isn't unusual for private colleges to have a campus pastor. If the college is affiliated with a particular church (Catholic, Lutheran, etc...) the pastor is of that faith, but may offer pastoral care services to students of many faiths. For secular colleges, the campus pastor (if there is one) may be more ecumenical in nature as Geillis is here, serving students of many faiths. A college may contract with faith leaders from the community to offer worship services to students. For example, a college may bring in a Catholic priest to offer mass, or a rabbi or imam to offer weekly services in addition to having a more ecumenical campus pastor. Much depends on the individual school. Conservative Christian schools generally do not do this at all, and only offer pastoral services that align with their stated theology.


	22. At the Abbey: October 24, 2020

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Claire and Jamie have a late-night rendezvous.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is a nod to book readers. If you are a show-only person, read the note at the end which will explain how the book differs from the show. I know a lot of book readers were a bit disappointed that this was left out of the show (myself included).

11:00 PM

Claire watched out the window and saw Jamie’s SUV pull up. She had thrown a towel into her gym bag along with a change of clothes for tomorrow, wondering what in the world was in store. Seeing the familiar headlights, she locked up and went out to meet him. 

  
“Where in God’s name are you taking me?” She hopped into the car, closed the door and put on her seatbelt. 

  
“A wee surprise.” He turned and gave her a quick kiss. “Trust me.”

  
A few minutes later, he drove onto the Leoch College campus, then pulled into the parking lot of the Abbey Gymnasium and Aquatics Center. He jumped out, beckoning her to follow. 

  
“We’re going to the gym?” she asked, utterly confused. “At this hour?” 

  
He didn’t answer. Instead, he led her to a side door, pulled out a key and ushered her inside. The dark hallway smelled vaguely of sweaty student athletes, long gone so late on a Saturday night. He took her hand and led her through the empty men’s locker room, emerging on the other side into the large space of the natatorium. It was dark, except for a sliver of street light that found its way in through the windows high above the bleachers. The red exit sign glowed in the distance, and the sweaty stench of the hallway had given way to an intense chlorine smell. There were two main pools: one Olympic sized another smaller deeper pool for diving. There was also a small round pool near the diving area. 

  
“Care for a swim to wash away yer stress, Sassenach?” He stood behind her, his arms wrapped around her waist as he peppered her neck with kisses before he let go and began to peel off his shirt. “It’s verra relaxing.” 

  
“Now? Won’t someone catch us here?” She turned to him, her glass face wearing an expression that one would use with a small child who had suggested having ice cream for dinner. 

  
“Dinna fash. It’s Saturday night. No one’s here but us. The students dinna have keys, and I guarantee ye that no one’s working in the offices after 11 PM on a Saturday, especially no’ the athletic director…” Jamie raised an eyebrow and Claire snickered. “Nah. Security is due to make the rounds in a few minutes, but they know I like to come here late and they dinna bother me. I buy them a case of beer once in a while and it’s all good.” 

  
Claire looked at him with a cheeky grin. “Should I have brought my suit?” 

  
Jamie leaned over and whispered in her ear, “Suits are no’ allowed after 11 PM. College rules.” 

  
“Well, far be it from me to break the college rules,” she purred. 

  
They quickly stripped down, jumping into the diving well. The rush of cool water over Claire’s skin was exhilarating as she sunk lower, then kicked her way back to the surface, eventually treading water a few feet from Jamie. 

  
“Do you do this often?”

  
“Aye, but never wi’ a friend,” he laughed, splashing her a little. “It’s great for de-stressing. Verra peaceful. I’ll swim laps, or do a few dives off the board. Nothing too fancy when I’m alone.” 

  
“Fancy?” She sculled with her arms before settling in and floating on her back. “What can you do that’s fancy?” 

  
Unable to float, Jamie continued to tread water as he answered, “I do a braw flip and cannonball combo, but that’s the extent of my skill.”

  
“You realize that you’ll have to show me this ‘braw’ combo now, don’t you?” She swam to him, wrapping her arms around his neck. 

  
“Hmmm… I’ll show you mine if you show me yours…” he chuckled as he maneuvered them both toward the side of the pool. Claire positioned herself in the corner, her arms spread and holding on to the edge while Jamie climbed out and up the short ladder of the low diving board. He ran to the end, jumped once, then did a somersault in mid-air before crashing into the water with a massive splash. 

  
Just as he did, a door opened in the distance at the far end of the Olympic pool. Jamie surfaced and was swimming to the side just as a voice called out across the water. 

  
“Is that you, Dr. Jamie?”

  
“Aye, Rupert! ‘Tis only me! Jus’ takin’ a late-night dip.” 

  
“No problem! Sorry to bother you!” 

  
“It’s nae bother. Have a good night. Say, is Angus coming through any time soon?” 

  
“Not for a couple hours probably. He’s down by the fraternity houses now and I expect he might be…um… delayed, if you know what I mean.” 

  
Jamie laughed quietly at that. “Understood. Thanks, Rupert. Have a good night!”

  
“You too, Dr. Jamie!” 

  
The dark figure walked across the open space in the distance, exiting through another door. As the door slammed shut, Jamie swam over to Claire who was still in the corner. 

  
“Dinna fash about Rupert, Sassenach,” he explained, “He didna see ye. He and Angus are the night security guards, but I ken their route around campus, and if Angus is down at the fraternities, no one will be here until 3 AM at least.” 

  
“Good to know.” Claire reached out and pushed a wet curl off Jamie’s forehead.

  
“Come wi’ me. I have another surprise.” Jamie led the way out of the diving pool and over to the small round one nearby. “Get in, Sassenach. I’ll be right wi’ ye.” 

  
Claire held the handrail and stepped in. This pool was not only much smaller and shallower than the others, it was noticeably warmer as well, almost like bath water, with a layer of steam hovering over its surface. It had a bench that ran around the edge, and a small circular bench in the middle. Jamie stepped a few feet away around a corner, then came back. Moments later, jets of water turned on, causing the pool to bubble and fizz, and he stepped in to join Claire. 

  
“Ye like it? They use it for the swimmers to stay warmed up in between races.” 

  
“Mmmmm…I love it…” She leaned back, positioning herself so a jet of water massaged her lower back. Jamie scooted in on the bench beside her. “It’s perfect, Jamie. A soak in a hot tub is just what I needed after a long day of grading essays.” 

  
“I thought ye might like it here.” Jamie pulled her closer, laying Claire’s head on his shoulder and giving her hair a kiss. “The old chaplain we had before Geillis, Fr. Anselm, always used to come here at night. Said it was good for his arthritis. Sometimes I’d be here and we’d talk philosophy in the wee hours, but with him gone, I’m the only one who comes here late. It’s strictly under the radar. What the powers-that-be dinna ken willna hurt them.”

  
Claire moved so that the was straddling his thighs, and leaned in for a deep kiss. “I’ll keep your secret.” 

  
“I knew I could trust ye,” Jamie whispered, his hands reaching up to cup her breasts which were floating in the bubbling water, half exposing her nipples. He gently stroked both peaks with his thumbs, eliciting a low moan from Claire. “Ohhh, I like that one. Make that noise for me again,” he crooned, repeating the movement with his thumbs. 

  
Claire made a different, more urgent sound as she took his mouth to hers, probing with her tongue and gently biting his lower lip before pulling away. 

  
“God, I love yer wee noises, Sassenach,” he teased, stretching a hand down lower to lightly stroke her. She responded in kind, reaching down to find him already hard, his thick cock bobbing gently in the moving water. She stroked him twice, up and down his full length, before pausing and circling her thumb at the tip. He groaned, leaning forward to touch his forehead to hers. She let go of it as he stood up, carrying her with him. Her legs wrapped around his waist, pressing his cock to his stomach, as he took two long strides then settled down on the center seat. 

  
Still straddling him, she reached down and took hold of him, stroking the tip over her folds, teasing them both. He grasped her hips, pulling her up slightly, aligning her breasts, fully out of the water now, with his restless mouth. He took in one nipple, sucked it furiously, pulling it gently across his teeth as Claire gasped, before turning his attentions to the other in kind, leaving the first puckered and hard. One hand held her steady, her anchor in the waters that swirled around them, while his other sought out the nexus of her pleasure, stroking her exactly as he knew she liked it best. 

  
Feeling adventurous, Claire looked him in the eye and gave him a mischievous smirk before spinning herself around in the water. Facing away from him now, half floating, half kneeling on the bench, she reached back and grasped Jamie’s cock. Quickly understanding what she wanted, Jamie positioned himself, entered her, then held her hips and moved her up and down in the water. Claire bit her lip and gasped at the sheer girth of him, heightened by the angle, stretching her over and over, pressing her down onto him fully as he did. Her breasts floated free, and she ran her hands lightly over them before reaching down to touch herself while Jamie continued to move in rhythm, still keeping her firmly anchored. 

  
She could tell when he was close. His breathing became more erratic, and his grip on her hips tightened. She stroked more quickly now, wanting to finish with him, chasing his pleasure with her own. It didn’t take long before they both cried out, his primal roar and her keening cry echoing together around the open space. Several breaths later, he slipped out of her and they moved off the center bench and back to the edge. Claire rested her wet curls on his shoulder, humming with contentment. They sat for a long time in the silence of their afterglow as the bubbles from the jets swirled around them, and Claire’s thoughts returned to how wonderfully freeing the past month had been. She felt as though her inhibitions were slipping away and that she was becoming more relaxed and comfortable in her own skin, a truer version of herself than she had ever been in her marriage. It was exciting, but more than a little unsettling too. 

  
After a while, Claire slid off the bench, lowering herself into the water. She tipped her head back, wetting her hair again and smoothing it out before kneeling on the bench, again straddling Jamie’s thighs as he scooted forward to meet her. She leaned over and kissed him tenderly, pressing her forehead to his afterward. She pulled back slightly, opening her eyes and finding his gazing back at her. The desperate energy of their earlier union had softened into a desire that felt like a low hum, gentle and constant, flowing between them.

  
Claire reached down, and finding him ready again, slowly lowered herself onto him, her breath catching as she did. She rocked her hips gently, her eyes never leaving his as she swam like a mermaid in their liquid sapphire depths. _This_ was his siren call to her, the one she could not resist, even though it terrified and comforted her in equal measure. She understood in the deep recesses of her heart that their coupling was beyond the physical, and that their spirits were being woven together—every kiss, every word, every encounter another thread, adding color and texture and depth and meaning. She was falling in love with him no matter how much she tried to deny it. The last time she had felt even a tiny fraction of a connection like this, she had ended up married. Then everything went to hell, leaving her to pick up the shattered bits of herself and glue them together again with nothing but sheer force of her stubborn will. And now? She was vulnerable again. Helpless. _Did he know? Could he see it in her eyes? Did he understand that he held her heart, to do with as he would, and the thought of it nearly paralyzed her?_

  
He moved her tenderly, large hands splayed over her back. She stroked her fingers from his temple down over the scruff of his jawline, gently hooking her finger there and pulling his lips toward her own, close but not touching. They breathed together, ghosting each other’s lips before finally surrendering to a soft, deep kiss. Moving slowly as one, stroking, touching, caressed by the swirling water, Claire reached her peak. It was gentler this time… softer, with nuances of sensation that had been lost in the frenzy of their earlier coupling. He followed her, moments later, breathing out her name into the warm humid air, his voice as fragile as her heart. 

  
_“Oh, Claire…”_

*****

Back at his apartment, he held her as she slept, stroking her capricious curls, watching her eyelids twitch as she dreamed, whispering his truth, a truth that grew more solid by the day, daring to hope that her soul would hear it and understand… 

_"Tha mi a ’tuiteam ann an gaol leat, mo Sorcha. A bheil fios agad? A bheil thu a ’faicinn gu bheil thu a’ cumail mo chridhe nad làmhan? Is leamsa thu…"_

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Show only people- At the end of Book One, Jamie is recuperating from his torture at the hands of Black Jack at an Abbey in France. In the books, his emotional wounds don't haunt him as much as they do in the show (into Season 2), and he and Claire are together sooner. Jamie takes Claire to an underground cave at the abbey which has a natural hot spring, where one of the monks has taken him to soak his scars, and they make love in the water. As they are leaving the cave/hot spring, she tells him she is pregnant. In the show, the cave/hot spring doesn't exist, the monastery is in Scotland, and she tells him she is pregnant before they board the ship to France. 
> 
> Translation: I'm falling in love with you, my Claire. Do you know? Do you see that you hold my heart in your hands? I am yours…


	23. A Wee Chat: October 27, 2020

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jamie and his sister have a long overdue catch-up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Major thanks as always to all who read and support this newbie fic writer! Love to all!

It had been a long time since he’d talked to his sister. Too long, he realized, but with the harvest season at the farm, and his busy semester, and spending so much time with Claire, time had gotten away from them both. The video call came on his laptop, and he quickly hit accept. 

“Jenny! Christ, it’s good to see ye! It’s been sae long.” 

The image briefly pixelated, but quickly resolved itself into the rather stern-faced image of his only surviving sibling.

"And why is that, exactly?” She glared at him, frown lines deepening between her brows. “Where have ye been, ye daft wee thing? I’ve sent ye a ton of texts over the past month, and ye’re never free to talk. Are they working ye so hard now that ye have no time for yer family?” 

He could tell that she was genuinely annoyed, and he sighed to himself. He deserved her ire. The truth, which he would probably NOT tell her, was that she had the world’s worst timing. Every time she texted, he was either on his way to Claire’s place, or headed out to dinner with Claire, or more than a wee bit preoccupied with his cock buried deep inside Claire. More often than not, it was the last, and even the thought of it sent a pleasant twinge to that particular part of his anatomy. 

“I’m sae sorry,” he apologized, sounding rather sheepish. “Give me a good thrashing. I deserve it.” 

Jenny’s face softened and she smiled back at him. “Och, ye know I canna stay angry wi’ ye for long, brother. I jus’ missed ye is all. We’ve had a good harvest here…” She went on to update him on the farm, the various restaurants they supplied, and the community shares for the winter season where they would offer cold-weather vegetables, cheese and sausage for subscribers. Finally, her news complete, she turned her attention back to him. 

“So, when can we expect ye to arrive for the holidays?” She took a sip of tea, smiling as she did. “Ye’re finished by mid-December if memory serves. Have ye booked yer flight yet? Ye really shouldn’t wait. Prices always go up the longer ye wait…” 

He gulped, realizing he might get another dose of an angry Jenny before the conversation was over. “Actually, that’s somethin’ I need to discuss wi’ ye. I’m no’ coming for the holidays…but I do plan to make the trip for spring break in March and we can—”   
He was cut off before he could complete his thought. 

“What do ye mean ye’re no’ comin’ for the holidays?” Her picture froze just then when her face wore a particularly fierce glare, but the audio held and her voice went on. “No’ for Christmas? Or Hogmanay? Why in God’s name no’? Ye need tae find another job if they’re expecting sae much from ye that ye canna even see yer family at Christmas for Christ’s sake!” The picture unfroze, and she was back, jaw clenched, the daggers in her eyes stabbing him through the screen.

“It’s no’ work. Murtagh offered me his cabin for break, and…I’m planning to be there—” Again, she cut him off.

“So ye’d rather be in some ratty old croft all alone than be wi’ yer family. I dinna understand ye—” Now it was his turn to interrupt.

“I dinna say I’d be there alone. I have someone who I’m hoping will go wi’ me.” 

This was met with stunned silence, and Jenny’s eyes growing wider as her jaw dropped and she set down her mug of tea.

“Ye…” she groped for words, fumbling and awkward. “Ye’ve met someone then? An American?”

“Actually, she’s English. She works here like I do, but she has no’ got her green card yet.” He licked his lips nervously, bracing himself for her reaction. 

Instead she laughed out loud, shaking her head. “So ye went all the way to America only to date a sassenach? Christ Almighty, ye’re even more daft than I thought.” 

“Janet, it’s serious. At least for me it is. I think she could be the one.” His voice was level and controlled, even as his heart was pounding in his chest to say the words out loud to her. Somehow saying it to his sister was different than saying it to John. It was more _real_ somehow, with a level of gravitas that his earlier admission to his friend lacked. 

“I see. Well, ye ken I want ye to be happy, but this seems rather sudden,” she cautioned. Jamie could tell she was holding back her true opinions, which were plain as day in spite of her efforts to be diplomatic.

“I hear ye, Jen. I really do. It’s just…this is different.”

“Like the last one was different? The French one?”

“Annalise? Och, she was a fling, nae more, and I kent it at the time.” He dismissed it with a wave of his hand and a shake of his head. “Ye’ll have to trust me on this. There’s nothing ordinary about Claire.” 

“Claire?” Jenny raised her eyebrows, her lips pursed, giving Jamie a critical glare. 

“Aye, Claire—” At that moment, wee Jamie jumped on his mother’s lap, eager to speak to his favorite uncle, and the conversation about Claire was over. Jamie talked to each of the children, then the whole family together. Two hours later, he closed his laptop and buried his head in his hands. Would Claire want to spend winter break with him? Why had he just assumed that she would? Maybe she already had other plans. He’d accepted Murtagh’s offer of the cabin in the Adirondacks on a whim, not really thinking through the reality of asking Claire if it was something she’d like to do. 

He wanted to believe that Claire returned his feelings, but he couldn’t be sure. He was learning how much she had been hurt by her ex-husband, and he held back because of it. He didn’t want to push her too quickly into something she wasn’t ready for, but _Christ_ , he _was_ ready. His heart was fit to burst, and he didn’t know how much longer he could hold out before the truth came pouring out of him, probably at the worst possible moment. Would she leave him then? He needed to keep himself under control, wait for the right moment, when he was certain that she was ready. He only hoped he could last that long. 


	24. Samhain: October 30, 2020

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jamie and Claire attend the public Samhain service held by Geillis on campus, and remember those they have lost.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, thank you so much for reading! I appreciate every hit, kudo and comment. Thank you for coming along on the journey with these two as their relationship grows.

“Have you ever been to one of these before?” Claire asked as they pulled into the parking lot of the chapel. “Geillis says it’s an annual thing.” 

“I have. I come every year.” Jamie turned off the engine, then turned to Claire, reaching up and gently stroking her cheek with his fingers. “We dinna have to do this if ye’re no’ comfortable. I ken it’s a little unusual on the face of it, but Geillis does a good job making it verra inclusive.” He turned to open the door. “The worst part is walking past the protesters.” 

“I’m fine, but who in the world is protesting?” Claire stepped out of the car, her eyes wide in astonishment as he locked the SUV. 

“Take yer best guess…” He looked at her with a raised eyebrow as he put his keys in his jacket pocket. 

“Geordie?” 

“They didna give ye that Ph.D. for nothing, Sassenach,” Jamie laughed. “He’ll be there, along with the rest o’ the group, and their adviser, Dr. Bain from Religious Studies. Dinna fash. They’re a verra small group. Maybe seven or eight at most.” 

Sure enough, as they rounded the corner toward the chapel entrance, they were met with a small group of students and a very angry looking older man, all carrying signs denouncing the “Satanic ritual” that was about to take place and calling for the chaplain to be fired. They smiled at the group politely and kept walking, but Claire caught the eye of Dr. Bain, who gave her a particularly unfriendly glare. Jamie put his arm protectively around her waist, steering her toward the chapel entrance. 

“Free speech is a wonderful thing,” Claire commented blandly. 

“Aye, ‘tis,” Jamie laughed. “They’re free to be as awkward as they can be, and I’m glad for it. Geillis takes it all in stride.” 

The chapel was one of the more modern structures on campus, with a large airy interior and open wooden beams. Chairs were positioned around a large central table that was decorated with candles and several vases of autumn flowers and leaves, along with a few small pumpkins and several Mexican-looking painted ceramic skulls. Jamie and Claire found seats toward the back along with other faculty, allowing the students to take the seats closer to the front as the group assembled quietly, with only the occasional sneeze breaking the silence. 

Promptly at seven o’clock, Geillis entered through a small door near the front of the chapel and approached the podium. She was dressed in black minister’s robes and a brightly colored patchwork stole that resembled a stained-glass window with its jewel tones. She adjusted the microphone and began to speak. 

“Welcome to Leoch College’s annual Samhain service, and a special welcome to our co-sponsor, the Hispanic Heritage Club. This is an inclusive service, for people of any faith tradition, and ye are welcome to participate as much or as little as ye like. Samhain traces its roots to the ancient Celtic New Year, the end of the harvest and the coming of winter, and it seems fitting to remember those we love who have died when deep autumn is upon us.” Geillis paused and took a small sip of water before continuing. 

“Christianity, which assimilated many pagan traditions, came to celebrate All Hallows Eve and All Saints Day as the faith spread across Europe, but the roots of the celebration are common with Samhain, so we gather, pagan and Christian, together with our friends of other faiths or no faith at all, to remember those we love who have passed. We will begin tonight by decorating our altar. I invite ye to come forward whenever ye feel ready, and place any photos or mementos of yer loved ones here on the table for the duration of our service. Ye can pick them up again after we’re finished.” 

Geillis signaled to several musicians who were gathered off to the side, and they began playing softly. For a while, the group sat in silence, but eventually one student found his courage and walked up to the altar to lay a small black and white photo there before returning to his seat. Others followed, alone or in small groups, and soon the altar was covered with photos and small trinkets. 

“Should we go up?” Claire whispered to Jamie. “I did bring some photos.” 

“Whenever ye’re ready.” He nodded. “I brought some too.” 

Jamie stood and Claire followed, slowly striding down the center aisle. When he reached the altar, Jamie stepped off slightly to the side, allowing others to lay down their photos. He paused a moment, and reached in his back pocket, pulling out two photos and propping them gently against one of the candlesticks. Claire followed his lead, and placed a photo of her own near his. She turned to go back to her seat, but waited when she saw that Jamie was still standing stock still, his face somber. He reached into the front pocket of his jeans, and pulled out a small silk pouch. He loosened the strings, and turning it over, Claire saw a beautiful pearl necklace fall out into his waiting hand. He held it gently, fingering a couple pearls before laying it on the altar next to where he had propped his photos. He took a deep breath, and Claire thought she heard it hitch as he did. 

They returned to their seats, and Geillis stepped back up to the podium. “Now, we’re going to cast a circle around this gathering, invoking the blessings of the four directions.” Students, positioned around the chapel, lit candles and spoke a blessing invoking the elements of air, fire, water and earth. Geillis went on to invite members of the Hispanic Heritage Club up to the front, where they shared _Dia De Los Muertos_ traditions with the group. 

Claire looked over at Jamie, who had a distant look on his face but didn’t seem terribly inclined to say anything about it. They watched and listened in silence to several student speakers before Geillis returned to the podium after directing a few students to hand out small candles to the assembled group. 

“Now is the most sacred time of our gathering,” Geillis spoke reverently. “We’ll light the candles from the front altar, and each of ye will light yer neighbor’s candle until all the candles are lit. As we do, remember that the light and spirit of those we love lives on in us. If ye wish, ye can share a thought of yer loved one, or ye can speak to them in yer heart, or just call their memory to mind. Whatever ye do, know that they are always wi’ ye, and ye're never truly alone.” 

Claire glanced at Jamie, who was sitting with his head bowed. His copper curls hung such that Claire couldn’t be sure if his eyes were open or not, but he sat up briefly to light his candle from hers before returning to his more meditative posture. Claire’s own thoughts wandered to her parents, so long passed that their memory was a delicate thing, fickle and shadowy. Sometimes she thought she recalled their voices, but she could never be sure. She thought of her Uncle Lamb, who took her in and raised her as his own, and felt his loss more keenly than she had in a long time. He had guided her through childhood and adolescence, but passed shortly after her high school graduation. How different might her life have been if he had lived? She certainly wouldn’t have married in her freshman year of college, that much was certain. 

Before Claire realized it, a tear had formed and rolled down her cheek as the weight of her loss and its ripple effect in her life settled onto her shoulders like a sodden blanket. She was an orphan, a motherless child… alone. 

She had been alone for so long. She had gotten used to it, used to feeling abandoned and unsupported, even when she was married. It felt normal. These past six years, she had learned to stand on her own two feet, but she had also learned to guard her heart and be wary of trusting anyone. In that moment, Claire realized that everything she was feeling now could be traced back to the original losses she suffered as a child, and her heart ached for it. She ached for her father’s arms scooping her up and planting her on his shoulders. She ached for her mother’s touch, tucking her into bed at night. She ached for her uncle’s steady presence, his quirkiness and unflagging support of her dreams. 

As silent tears streamed down her face, Jamie’s hand reached over and clasped her own, squeezing it gently. She turned to look at him, and saw that he too had tears trickling down his cheeks. He pressed his lips together and nodded to her, trying to give her what strength he had, even in the face of his own grief. 

“My parents are gone too, ye ken. And my older brother.” 

Claire nodded in acknowledgment, and he continued, his soft voice full of sadness, “Will died as a teenager. Sudden cardiac death, they called it. His heart gave out sudden-like, on the football pitch. Ventricular fibrillation. He didna stand a chance. I was only twelve when it happened.” She turned toward him, leaning her forehead against his, holding space for his grief. 

“Mam passed a decade ago. Breast cancer…and Da followed a year after. Jenny found him out in the fields, but it was too late. They said he had a massive stroke, but it was really losing her that did it. He couldna live without her.” He inhaled sharply, blinking as he looked up. 

Their eyes met, and Claire envisioned him then, as an awkward red-headed boy of twelve, standing with his devastated parents as they buried their oldest child, and again as a young man, finishing graduate school and starting a new life in a new country. Just as she had done. 

“I’m so sorry, Jamie,” she whispered, her voice shaking. She knew then that he _understood_ , that his acknowledgment of her own pain was not simply words spoken in sympathy, but a comprehension borne from the bone-deep losses of his own. They sat in silence for several minutes, facing each other, foreheads pressed together, holding on to each other for strength, a circle of two. Around them, the service continued as people shared memories and wishes, but Jamie and Claire were oblivious to anything but each other. 

Eventually, as the people around them began to stir, they reluctantly pulled apart and faced forward, each wiping their eyes with one hand, while the other kept the connection between them. Their fingers interlaced, and Jamie brought her hand to his lips, giving it a brief kiss and a gentle squeeze. 

Geillis stepped up to the podium again. “As we extinguish the candles, remember that our circle is open, yet unbroken…until we meet again next year.” 

With the service concluded, people stood up to leave, some milling about or talking in small groups while others retrieved their memorabilia from the altar. Jamie quickly slipped through the crowd as Claire followed a few paces behind. She watched as he tucked the photos away, and picked up the pearls, slipping them back into the pouch and into his pocket again. He looked up at her, offering a quick smile but no explanation, so Claire decided it was probably best not to ask any questions about them. She guessed they were his mother’s, and knowing what she now did about her death, she felt as though she understood his reasons for bringing them. 

They drove back to Jamie’s apartment in peaceful silence, their hands again finding each other. Stepping inside, Claire turned to him. 

“A few weeks ago, you had me make you a promise…” Her voice trailed off, uncertain. She looked down at the floor, trying to compose herself. Jamie cupped her cheek with his hand, and she looked up. 

“It’s alright, _mo ghraidh,_ ye can tell me anything.” He kissed the top of her head, pulling her against him, resting her head over his heart. 

“Can you…can you just hold me tonight? I’m sorry. You made me promise, and I’m just no—” 

He cut her off, placing a finger to her lips. “Hush…ye dinna have to apologize. I’m a little wrung out myself. It’s okay. To sleep, then?” 

She nodded and gave him a tiny smile. “Yes. To sleep.”

Jamie took her hand, walking her to his bedroom, then opened a dresser drawer and pulled out a t-shirt. Handing it to her, he broke the silence. “Is this okay? Ye can sleep in it.” 

“It’s perfect. Thank you.” Her eyes welled again with tears, this time with relief. She undressed in the bathroom, stripped down to her underwear, then slipped the t-shirt on. It was soft, well-worn, and smelled like laundry detergent and Jamie. When she came back to the bedroom, she slipped between the sheets next to him and rolled onto her side. He pulled her into the curve of his body, the little spoon. He had taken off his shirt, but she could feel that he had kept his boxers on. 

“Sweet dreams, Sassenach,” he breathed into her curls.

“You too.” 

_I love you_. The words formed in her mind as she closed her eyes, her head settling onto the pillow. Someday she would find the courage to tell him, but what would he say? She was still uncomfortable with the thought of saying it before he did. But what if he never did? What would she do then? But that was a question for another day. For now, she drifted off to sleep, exhausted and emotionally drained, but content in the moment. 

For tonight, it was enough. 

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've tried to write this service not as a strictly Wiccan ritual, but rather as "Wiccan-adjacent." (Recall that I am not Wiccan) I imagine Geillis as wanting to celebrate the old Celtic holiday in a way that is as inclusive as possible so that students of many faiths or no faith at all would be comfortable. It is in no way meant to be disrespectful of any faith. The group of protestors are of course free to protest as they wish. A Unitarian Universalist church near where I live once hosted a Wiccan author as a speaker, and the event drew protestors similar to those who show up at Geillis' service. It's not a stretch to imagine a group like Geordie and Dr. Bain's fictional "Free Church" protesting Geillis in the US in this context.


	25. Holiday Plans: November 3, 2020

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jamie finds his courage and asks Claire to spend the holidays with him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! I appreciate your kind words and support.

“I’m so excited! Thank you, Jamie, but you really didn’t have to do anything.” Claire leaned over and kissed him before she put her seat belt on. He’d decided to surprise her and take her to the Moosewood Restaurant in Ithaca for a belated birthday dinner. She owned two of their cookbooks, and had mentioned her desire to visit the place in person. It was a short drive, about twenty minutes through the countryside, and they spent it mostly listening to the radio, catching up on the news. 

  
Claire noticed that Jamie seemed unusually quiet, but she wasn’t particularly worried. Things between them had only gotten better in recent weeks, and she was happier than she’d been in years. He parked in front of the restaurant, and minutes later they had placed their dinner order, settling in with their drinks to wait for the food. 

  
“I was wondering if you had any plans for Thanksgiving?” Claire took a sip of her drink. “Geillis invited us both to her and Louise’s place for a potluck with some of their expat friends. She said it’s always a little strange being European in the US on Thanksgiving, so it’s just an ordinary potluck. No turkey or pumpkin pie.” 

“Sounds like a braw plan. I’d like to spend the day together…” Jamie’s voice trailed off as he reached across the table to take Claire’s hand, gently stroking it with his thumb. “Do ye have any other…plans…for the rest of the holidays and such?” He looked up at her in anticipation. 

“Not really,” she mused, watching as his fingers interlaced with her own. “These past few years I usually just watched a lot of movies and caught up on my sleep over Christmas. I hear Colum gives a big party for the faculty, but that’s really the only plan I have at this point.”

“Hmmph…” Jamie swallowed, then licked his lips nervously. “Would ye mebbe...like to spend them together…wi’ me?”

“Of course,” Claire answered quizzically, with a tip of her head. “I assumed we’d get together a lot over break.” 

“No, I mean…” Jamie inhaled sharply, “I mean come away wi’ me. Jus’ the two of us. For the whole break. Murtagh owns a cabin up in the Adirondacks, near Stillwater, and he’s letting me have it for break since he and Suzette will be in France the whole time.” 

“That’s very generous of him.”

Jamie laughed. “Weel, he did drive a hard bargain. I’m teaching a section of Intro Gaelic next semester in exchange.”

“Sounds like quite a deal.” Claire’s voice was soft with gentle laughter, and she stared at their hands, still joined on the table.

“What do ye think…would ye—”

“I’d love to.” Claire looked up at him. Their eyes met, and a slight, shy smile spread over both their faces. Jamie brought her hand to his lips and kissed her fingers, one by one, his eyes never leaving hers.

“Here we are,” the waitress chirped, setting down the large tray that held their food. 

They let go of each other’s hands, turning their attention to dinner, and the conversation drifted to work, students, and Claire’s efforts to rehabilitate the college’s greenhouse which had fallen into neglect prior to her arrival at Leoch.

They went back to Jamie’s apartment, and watched the election returns. It was really rather boring. Hillary Clinton got a second term as everyone expected, and they fell into bed by ten o’clock in a flurry of blissful kisses, laughter and gentle teasing that quickly transfigured into a rising heat that consumed them both.

“Do it now, and don’t be gentle,” Claire demanded just before Jamie pinned her wrists over her head and drove into her with a desperate need that she met stroke for stroke, her own lust taking over her senses until nothing existed but the pure sensation of moving together with him in perfect rhythm. His breath was hot in her mouth as his lips grazed over hers, her moan growing louder each time he pressed into her.

_Harder, faster, more_ … He was pounding her flesh with an intensity she had never experienced in her life, and she needed it like her lungs needed oxygen. She craved him, ached for him, burned for him. Would it ever stop? The wanting him? _Harder, faster, more_ … She came undone moments before him, gasping for breath, crying out his name. He collapsed onto her, panting and spent, having given himself completely, and taken in her own completion as a gift in return. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Moosewood is a real vegetarian restaurant in Ithaca, NY, and they are famous for their many cookbooks. 
> 
> For non-US readers: The Adirondack mountains are a protected natural region of upstate New York that comprise over 6 million acres, the largest protected natural area of the lower 48 states, with old growth forest and wetlands. In 1885, it was established with a "forever wild" clause limiting development. The 1980 Winter Olympics were held in Lake Placid, which is part of the Adirondack region. The photograph of the cabin in the moodboard is typical of the area.


	26. Phaedre: November 5, 2020

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Phaedre asks Claire for a promise. Dougal and Jocasta check in with each other.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a splash of plot-stuff. Look for a larger chapter tomorrow. I hope this can be a distraction for you. Those of us in the US are a wee bit stressed this week.

“Dr. Beauchamp?” 

The sound of a hesitant voice caused Claire to look up from her pile of papers.

“Phaedre, what can I help you with? I haven’t gotten to your latest assignment if that’s what you’re wondering. I’ll have them done by next week, I promise.” Claire gestured toward the stack in front of her.

“No, that’s okay…” Phaedre looked down at her shoes for a moment, as though pondering what to say before looking up again. “Can I talk to you?”

“Of course.” She gestured toward the chair, and Phaedre took off her backpack and laid it on the floor before perching on the edge of the seat. Claire sat back in her chair, crossed her legs and waited.

Phaedre fingered her keys nervously, then exhaled loudly before beginning. “You know who my parents are, don’t you?”

“I do. They’re on he Board of Directors for the college.” Claire tapped her fingers quietly on her thigh.

Phaedre smiled slightly. “Right. I love my parents. They’re both great. They’ve given me everything, but they tried not to spoil me either. Know what I mean?”

Claire nodded. 

“I’m an only child. Mom had me pretty late, so she’s always fussed a lot over me, and I appreciate it. I really do. It’s just…it’s just a little much sometimes. I’m 18 now. I need to figure out my own life, not have my mom do it all for me.” Phaedre looked up at Claire, her brown eyes pleading for understanding. 

“Phaedre, what does this have to do with me?” She had a sinking feeling about _exactly_ what it had to do with her.

“I know she’s coming to see you tomorrow,” she implored, staring at her keys again. “Please don’t tell her anything. It’s just one class, but I got a B, not an A. I’m fine with the B, but mom will pitch a fit if she knows. I don’t want any special treatment, but I don’t want my mom to go ballistic for just one B.”

Claire sighed. 

“I promise,” she replied, her mind drawn once again back to her meeting with Jocasta tomorrow, looming larger by the minute. “Actually, I’m not allowed to tell her anything. There’s a law that protects your privacy as a student since you’re over 18.”

Phaedre looked up, a smile slowly spreading across her face. “Really? There’s a law?”

“Well, yes, but try not to rub your parents’ noses in it.”

“I promise. Thank you Dr. Beauchamp!” Phaedre stood up, beaming, picking up her backpack and heading out the door.

After she left, Claire propped her elbows on her desk and buried her face in her hands. _What_ the bloody hell was she going to do about Jocasta?

  
*****

  
Thur 11/5/20 2:02 PM  
From: dmackenzie @ leoch.edu  
To: jocasta @ cameronwinery.com  
Re: Parents Weekend

  
Jocasta, 

Are you and Ulysses coming for Parents weekend? Maura and I would love to have you both over for drinks Friday night. Are you free? 

  
Cheers,  
Dougal

  
Dougal MacKenzie, M.A.   
Director of Athletics  
Football Coach  
Leoch College  
GO SCOTS!! 

  
*****

  
Thur 11/5/20 2:42 PM  
From: jocasta @ cameronwinery.com  
To: dmackenzie @ leoch.edu  
Re: Parents Weekend

Dougal, 

We’ll have to take a pass this time. Ulysses is out of town, and I need to be back here Friday night. I’m coming by on Friday afternoon to get a progress report on Phaedre from one of her professors, Claire Beauchamp. She’s the only one I don’t already know well since she’s new.   
We’ll catch up at Colum’s Christmas party I’m sure. Thanks anyway. 

Best,   
Jocasta 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Note for non-US readers: Many colleges have Parents/Family weekends sometime in the fall semester. There are often special activities for students to enjoy with their families. It's not anywhere near the hoopla of Homecoming and often mostly families that live nearby make the effort to come since Thanksgiving and holiday breaks are on the horizon.


	27. Parents Weekend: November 6, 2020

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jocasta meets with Claire to discuss Phaedre. Claire reveals one of her "verra special" (ahem) purchases from Madame Jeanne's to Jamie.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This has been a challenging week for those of us in the USA, and I expect more challenging weeks to come over the next couple months before Inauguration Day in January. I've tried to write this fic as an escape from the world as it is, and several of you have said (either here or on Twitter) that it has helped you deal with the stresses of the moment. Nothing makes me happier than to read comments like that. THIS is why I write. If I can offer you a little bit of joy or a respite from a stressful time, I've done my job. 
> 
> Thank you from the bottom of my heart for supporting me and reading this fic. You have helped me too. It gives me joy to know that you are all out there, reading and escaping into the world I've written into existence. You give me life.

4:00 PM, 208 Lallybroch Hall 

Claire heard the footsteps coming closer from down the hall and knew it was Jocasta. She took a deep breath, then wiped her sweaty palms on her skirt. 

_You got this, Beauchamp_. 

She had come up with a plan. She would tell Jocasta about the legal requirements of student privacy, but deflect the decision up the food chain to Colum and suggest a meeting with the three of them that she would record with her phone. If Colum told her flat-out to break the law and disclose Phaedre’s grades to Jocasta, at least she could bring legal action against him and the college if they fired her when she refused. 

“Claire!” Jocasta breezed into Claire’s office as though it were her own, offering her hand in greeting. “So good to see you again.” 

“It’s good to see you too, Mrs. Cameron.” Claire shook her hand, and Jocasta sat down, settling herself in the chair and making herself at home. 

“Please...” She waved her hand dismissively. “Call me Jo.” 

“Jo,” Claire repeated awkwardly, grasping for something to say. “I got to sample some more of your wine at Homecoming. It was delicious.” 

“Thank you! It’s always a pleasure to supply wine for Homecoming. I saw you on the field at the game. I was impressed at how you handled Dougal. He can be a bit full of himself, but it looks like you held your own.” Jocasta nodded and smiled, setting her purse down on the floor. 

“Thanks.” Claire blushed. “I’m not sure he appreciated my help, but I was happy to be able to be there for William, in any case.” 

“Don’t let Dougal intimidate you,” she responded, pointing a well-manicured finger at Claire. “He’s the type of man who prefers his women to be meek and obedient, and you’re not the type. I can tell. He doesn’t know how to handle a woman as his equal.” Jocasta crossed her legs, sat back and twirled her scarf with her hand. “You should see how he tries to schmooze me whenever we’re at Colum’s. I humor him, and we do have fun, all of us together. He’s pretty hilarious after a few drinks. And I am happy with how well the football team has done this year…but I never for one minute forget what type he is, and you shouldn’t either if you’re going to manage him.” 

Claire smiled back, nodding in understanding. “Thank you. It means a lot. I do know the type. I was married to one like that for many years.”

Jocasta snorted, and gave her a conspiratorial smirk. “Anyhow,” she went on, “I’m not here to yammer on about Dougal, however much fun that might be…I want to check on my girl. How’s Phaedre doing for you? Is she able to handle the work? Because if she’s struggling, I’m happy to get a tutor for her. Ulysses and I really want her to do well.” 

Claire gulped. _You got this._ “Well, we do have a bit of a problem…” 

Jocasta’s eyes grew large with concern. “What? Say the word and we’ll get her whatever help she needs.” 

“It’s not that,” Claire continued after taking a sip of water for her dry mouth. “The problem is that I can’t actually tell you anything. I’m sure you’re familiar with the medical privacy law, HIPAA?” Jocasta nodded. “There’s a similar federal law for educational privacy. It’s called FERPA. You’ve probably never heard of it, because as long as the student is under 18, the parents have all the right in the world to talk to their child’s teachers. But once a student turns 18, that right transfers to the student. Phaedre is in charge of what she wants to tell—” 

Jocasta cut her off. “You mean to tell me that even though I’m the one paying her tuition, I can’t even find out if she’s passing or failing?” 

“I’m sor—”

Jocasta’s voice rose and she gestured vigorously as she went on, “After all we’ve done for this place? All the hours I’ve given on the board? All the money? Good God, we have a building named after us! And you can’t even tell me what she got for her midterm?” 

“I…I really am sorry. I can’t break federal law. If you get her permission I can talk to you. Have her email me.” Claire said a quick _sorry_ in her head to Phaedre for tossing the problem back in her direction, but it had to be done. 

“That’s the problem! She won’t talk to us!” Jocasta’s eyes welled with tears. Her demeanor changed as she visibly deflated in her chair. “I worry. College is a big adjustment. She’s…she’s my life…my baby. I had three miscarriages, but then finally had her right before I turned 40.” Jocasta inhaled sharply, then reached in her purse for a tissue. She blew her nose, and wiped her eyes as Claire sat in silence. 

“I worry, Claire. I worry a lot. She may have lots of advantages, but she’s still a young black woman in a world where that’s not an easy thing to be.” She choked out a harsh laugh. “A few weeks ago, Ulysses got pulled over on a country road not too far from our house. Driving while black, you know… it turned out okay, but he was shaking like a leaf when he walked in the door. Phaedre’s such a sweet thing. So idealistic. My sweet, innocent girl… She wants to be a counselor…working with troubled youth. She has no idea of how the world is.” 

“Maybe we can talk to Colum. He can explain it better than I can,” Claire offered, her voice soft. “For what it’s worth, I really am sorry that I can’t help you. It’s clear that you love your daughter very much. What I can tell you is that I care about her too, and I’ll do all I can for her as her professor.” 

Jocasta looked up at Claire, staring directly into her eyes for what felt like an eternity. Claire’s breath was shallow and she could feel her palms getting sweaty all over again. 

“You’re a remarkable woman, Claire,” she sniffed, wiping her nose again. “You’re the first person at this college to say no to me.” 

Claire’s stomach turned and she swallowed the lump in her throat. 

“Take a breath, honey. You look a little pale,” Jocasta chuckled, sniffling a little. “I know I need to let Phaedre grow up. It’s just hard sometimes. When you have kids of your own, you’ll understand.” 

Claire’s heart sunk at that, but she nodded politely. 

“Ulysses and I weren’t born to money. We met at a restaurant where we both worked in college,” she mused, turning over the damp tissue with her hands. “He waited tables, and I was a hostess. We’ve been insanely lucky with our investments. We got to follow our dream with the wineries. But even all our luck and hard work can’t change the world my baby will have to face.” She looked back up at Claire. “I won’t ask you to break federal law for me. It wouldn’t be fair to you.” 

Claire let out a breath she hadn’t been aware she was holding. 

“Thank you…Jo.” 

Jocasta stood up and gathered her things to go. 

“You’ll do well here, Claire,” she replied with a rather ironic chuckle. “Just keep your eye on Dougal.” 

  
  


*****

  
  


8:00 PM 

A beaming Claire opened the door and threw her arms around Jamie, pulling him inside. 

“Why, exactly, are ye so happy, Sassenach?” he asked, after picking her up off the floor in a hug and setting her back down again. 

“You are looking at the only person at Leoch to say _no_ to Jocasta Cameron and live to tell the tale,” she said as she twirled before him. “Good—you brought the bubbly! Come on, I’m opening this right now!” 

Claire went to the kitchen, popped open the bottle of champagne she had asked Jamie to bring, filled two glasses, then brought them to the living room, gesturing for Jamie to sit on the couch. She sat next to him, took a sip, then told him all about the meeting with Jocasta and what had happened with Phaedre over the past couple weeks since Homecoming. 

“Christ, Sassenach…ye could have told me. I might have been able to help ye.” Jamie shook his head, smiling. 

“That’s the point, Jamie. I can’t always come running to you every time I have a problem here. I need to handle it myself, especially if you move higher up in the administration.” She took a sip of her wine, and reached over to take his hand. “I appreciate the offer. But it’s okay. It all worked out. Dougal is backing off, and I’m on a first name basis with Jo.” She held out her class and clinked it together with Jamie’s before finishing it off. “So I’m celebrating. And so are you. Any objections?” 

Jamie grinned. “None whatsoever.” 

Claire was wearing a long, silky, dark purple robe that tied at the waist. She stood up, faced away from Jamie, and looked over her shoulder mischievously. She loved that robe. It made her feel like a movie star from old Hollywood. She slipped it off one shoulder, teasing him with her eyes. 

“Remember how I said I have a few things from Madame Jeanne’s that you haven’t seen yet? Things that I was saving for a special occasion?” 

Jamie bit his lower lip. “I do. Might this be special enough?”

“I think it is.” Claire winked over her shoulder, then turned and walked to the bedroom, hips swaying. 

“Get undressed,” she ordered as she lit several candles on the dresser and blew out the match. 

“So ye’re givin’ the orders now, are ye?” Jamie smirked, half a smile blooming on his lips as he quickly disrobed. “Ye handled Jocasta, and now ye’re goin’ to handle me?” 

Claire smirked back at him, raising a single eyebrow before purring, “Sit,” while she traced a finger over his jawline and down his neck to rest on his sternum, where she gave a gentle push. 

He sat. 

“Do I have your consent, Dr. James Fraser? To do whatever I want with you?” 

“God, yes…” 

She stepped back, kissed her finger, placed it on his lips, then slowly undid the sash at the waist of the robe and slipped it off her shoulders, letting it fall to the ground. Jamie’s eyes grew wide, his jaw dropped, and his cock stood stiff as he took in the sight of her. 

Claire was wearing a black leather corset, laced up the front. It had no boning to poke her in the ribs, and she had been pleasantly surprised at how comfortable it was when she tried it on in the shop. She had laced it up tightly so that it squeezed her breasts, pushing them up. Her nipples were covered…barely. She was not wearing knickers, but she did have sheer black stockings held up by garters extending down from the corset, and black slipper-sandals with kitten heels. 

Jamie gulped. “Christ, woman…ye’ll be the death of me.” 

“Lay back.” 

He did as he was told, scooting over to the center of the bed. Claire kicked off the slippers, then straddled his thighs, finding that she rather enjoyed seeing him so clearly undone by the sight of her. She felt powerful. Sexy. 

Grabbing both of his wrists and pinning them down, she leaned over to take his mouth in a deep, thorough kiss, then let go, and started to work her way down his neck, nibbling and biting gently as she did. Moving a little lower, she ran her tongue over his nipple, smiling to herself as he groaned in response. 

“What are ye doing?” he gasped and moved his hand down toward her. 

She reached up, pushed his hand back where it had been pinned before, then scooted lower and took a bit of the flesh of his taut stomach in her teeth, pulling gently. “Does that hurt?” she queried. 

“Little bit.” His breathing hitched. 

She paused, looking up at him through her lashes. “Do you want me to stop?”

“No…” 

Claire reached her hand down to cup his balls, rolling them gently between her fingers, all the while watching the expression on his face, contorted with pleasure. She had already decided earlier that evening that she wanted to take him in her mouth. She hadn’t done it before, and he had never pressured her. If she was honest with herself, Jamie was the first man she had actually _wanted_ in her mouth, although she was well-practiced in the act. She knew she had some skill, and doing this for him felt like a gift. Jamie was by far the most generous, thoughtful lover Claire had ever had, and for the first time in her life, she was doing this out of a desire to give pleasure, not obligation or because she was pressured into it. 

Taking him in her hand, she pumped him twice before licking the underside from base to tip. She swirled her tongue there before lowering her mouth over him as far as she could manage. He was too large to take in completely, so she worked her hand in tandem with her mouth, setting a steady rhythm — using her tongue in swirls, sucking, licking, gently scraping with her teeth. Over and over, she worked him, as he moaned and gasped with pleasure.

“God, Claire…I canna last much longer…” He drew his breath in sharply. 

She realized he was giving her a choice, and she loved him for it. No, she thought, she wouldn’t stop, or pull away, finishing with her hand alone. She picked up the pace, squeezing and sucking harder. Before long, Jamie let go with a string of Gaelic, gripping the sheets in his fists. She tasted him— salt, musk and the uniqueness that was Jamie. When the last surge had passed, she released him gently, then sat up, watching him with fascination. He opened his eyes, looked up at her and smiled. 

“Thank ye, Claire. That was incredible. I dinna know what I did to deserve it. Ye’re the one we’re celebrating.” 

“You deserve it for being you.” She brushed a copper curl from his forehead, smiling. _And because I love you..._

“And this…” he chuckled as he trailed a finger up the laces of the corset, “Christ, I canna decide if I want to rip it off ye or leave it on.” 

Claire giggled at that. “I thought you’d like it. How about we split the difference for now?” she suggested, her voice breathy and low as she reached a finger inside the corset, lifting one breast then the other free from their confinement as she straddled his thighs. He reached up with both hands, stroking her with his thumbs. 

“Christ Almighty, Sassenach…” He sat up, kissed her deeply, then flipped her over onto her back. “My turn,” he crooned as he scooted lower. He unclasped the garters, rolled down her stockings and tossed them aside, then positioned himself with Claire’s thighs draped over his shoulders, settling in to his task. Before long, he had worked her into a frenzy. Letting go, he rose up over her, leaned down and stroked a nipple as he whispered in her ear, “What would ye like?” 

Claire opened her eyes, glanced down, and saw that he was more than ready. “I want to ride you,” she gasped, and within a split second he was on his back. She climbed on, took him in hand, positioned him, then quickly sunk down in one stroke, taking him in completely as she let out a loud cry, matched by his own. She ground herself onto him as he tilted his hips up again and again. Eyes closed, head thrown back, she continued her driving pace. She leaned back slightly, ran her hands over her breasts and opened her eyes to find him looking up at her, eyes dark with desire. Something else was there too…tenderness, perhaps? He reached down between her legs with his thumb, stroking her as she closed her eyes again. Seconds later, she clenched around him, calling out his name. He followed closely, spilling into her with a loud groan. 

She collapsed onto the bed, gasping, and he flung his arm over her, exhausted. A few minutes later, he traced a finger down the front of the corset.

“Can I help ye wi’ this? Wi’ the laces and such? I dinna think ye’re goin’ to sleep in it.” 

She nodded and knelt on the bed as Jamie sat up and began the tedious task of slipping the laces through one hole, then another, slowly working his way from top to bottom. He glanced up at her, smiling as he freed her from the corset, tossing it on the floor. 

“As bonny as that wee thing is,” he murmured, reaching up to stroke her hair, “I like ye this way the best. Naked…in my arms.” 

They flopped down on the bed, side by side, facing each other. She traced his eyebrows with her fingertips. He rested his hand on the curve of her waist. They whispered endearments, fluff and nonsense, private jokes… Foreheads touching, they looked into each other's eyes, silent, for an eternity. They fell asleep, a tangle of limbs. 

_I love you..._

  
  


*****

Jamie’s gaze rested on the shell of Claire’s ear as her breathing slowed and she drifted off to sleep. His heart ached, so full of Claire that he thought it would burst. 

_Tha gaol agam ort…_

He imagined them together, making a home, having a family. _Tha gaol agam ort…_ She was the part of him he had never realized was missing. 

_Tha gaol agam ort, mo nighean donn…_

He closed his eyes and dreamed of her. 

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We've got a wee bit of Domme!Claire vibes going here, and I love it. Claire has come a long way from their first encounters back in September, but she still has some work to do to completely heal from the damage done by Frank. She's grown more bold and confident for sure, but there's still one threshold she hasn't gotten the courage to cross just yet... 
> 
> Look for two updates next week. 
> 
> Follow me on Twitter at Newbie Becca @avg_OL_fangirl 90% OL, 10% random nonsense I do weekly timeline cleanses with some Sam spam, and occasionally muse about the world at large. 
> 
> Translation: I love you…


	28. A Decision: November 10, 2020

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Claire and Geillis meet for coffee and a catch-up, resulting in good advice, stomach churning stress, and a decision.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, thank you for reading!

In the past month, it had become fairly common to spot Claire and Geillis sharing the latest Leoch College gossip over a coffee at Mrs. Fitz’s on random afternoons. The two had become closer friends as the semester progressed, and Claire was grateful to have a confidante. But today was different. Claire had made a decision, and she needed to share it. If she didn’t, she realized, she might not find the courage to follow through. Telling Geillis seemed like the best option.

“So, what’s yer big news?” Geillis queried, taking a sip of her cappuccino. “Did you and yer wee ginger snack run off and elope over the weekend?”

Claire choked and sputtered on her coffee at that, quickly grabbing a napkin and covering her mouth as she struggled to compose herself, while Geillis looked on with a shit-eating grin on her face.

“Oh God, Geillis,” Claire finally answered, a tiny smile growing on her face. “It’s nothing that dramatic, but it does have to do with Jamie. He asked me to go away with him for break. We’re headed to the Adirondacks. Apparently Murtagh has a cabin there.”

“I know ye don’t believe it, but mark me— the two o’ ye will be headin’ off to Vegas to tie the knot by graduation. I’d put money on it.” Geillis pointed her spoon at Claire for emphasis. “That boy is head over heels in love with ye.” 

“I want to believe it, but he hasn’t actually said it…the ‘L’ word, I mean.”

“Och, that doesna signify. I know what I see. If he hasna said it yet, mebbe he’s waiting on you. Did ye ever think o’ that?”

“I…I love him, Geillis. I really do.” Claire spoke softly, running her finger over the handle of her coffee mug. “I think I might take the chance and tell him when we’re away. Oh God, I said it out loud. What am I thinking? I can’t do this. I can’t take the risk that he doesn't feel the same way. And then we’re up there in the cabin all alone? And it all goes to shit from there? Bloody hell.”

“But ye do love him?”

“Yes. I really do, heaven help me. It’s so different than it was with Frank. It’s… I don’t know…deeper? Oh, fuck…that sounds so cheesy, but I can’t help it. It’s not anything usual, at least not from my experience.” Claire stared at her coffee cup, then looked up at Geillis. “It’s like I’ve found a piece of my heart that I didn’t even realize was missing.”

“Has he _ever_ given ye cause to think he doesna feel the same way?” Geillis looked her in the eye. “And I don’ mean that misunderstanding wi’ Laoghaire. That doesna count.”

“Well, no…he’s always very kind.”

“Alright then,” Geillis continued. “What is he tellin’ ye wi’ his actions? Even if he hasna said it yet wi’ words?”

Claire took a deep breath, not answering. 

“Well?”

“I suppose that he might possibly love me back… _possibly._ ” As Claire practically whispered the words, a tear formed in the corner of her eye.

“Exactly. Did ye ever stop to think mebbe he’s holdin’ back for yer sake? No’ wanting to push things faster than ye’re ready?” Geillis shifted in her seat, then leaned forward, pressing her case. “Ye’ve told him about what a rat bastard yer ex is. He knows how much ye’ve been hurt. Mebbe he’s afraid that if he goes too fast, ye’ll run away like a scared rabbit and he’ll lose ye. Did ye ever think o’ that?” 

“I suppose it’s possible.” Claire wiped her eye with the back of her hand and took a sip of her coffee. “So you think I should tell him how I feel…when we’re at the cabin?”

“What does yer heart say?”

“To take a chance and tell him.” Claire choked back a laugh.

“Then do it.” Geillis nodded, smiling. “I dinna think ye’ll regret it. That boy’s got it bad.” 


	29. Good and Evil: November 14, 2020

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dougal's plans come into focus. Jamie decides to prove his love.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A special thank you to my wonderful beta Danielle (SmashingTeacups), who always makes my writing better with her keen eye and spot-on instincts. Her work was my gateway drug into fanfic, and I'm thrilled to be working with her.

7:10 PM The Thief’s Hole Tavern 

Dougal walked in a few minutes late. Phil Wiley and Louis Fitzroy had already gotten a table in the far corner, and Louis stood up, waving to catch Dougal’s eye. Seeing them, he waved back and plodded over to the table, taking off his hat. 

“Sorry to keep you waiting. Have you ordered yet?” Dougal sat down and waved to the waitress, quickly grabbing a menu and scanning it. 

“Just beer,” Phil replied. The waitress took their food orders, and the three made small talk for several minutes before bringing up the real purpose of their meeting. 

“I’ve got good news and bad news,” Louis began, glancing at Dougal. “What do you want first?” 

“Give me the bad.” He scowled. 

“The meeting is postponed until December 4.” 

“I knew that.” Dougal nodded. “Anything else?” 

“That’s it.” 

“And the good news?” 

“Bain hates her already. He was thrilled at the idea of taking her down.” Louis smirked, taking a sip of his beer. “He’s a bit of a nut job, but it suits the task. He’s obsessed with the fact that Leoch has a pagan chaplain…and guess who that chaplain’s BFF is?” 

“Beauchamp.” Dougal smiled widely. “Nice work. I haven’t had to deal with her very much. Heard she’s a lesbian too, which is a shame. Such a waste, pretty thing like that…” He wiped some beer foam from his mustache. “So Bain’s after them both? Not sure if that matters much, but I’ll take it. He’s a nasty bit of work.” 

“Forbes and Brown are in,” Phil spoke up, not wanting to be upstaged by Louis. “They know where their bread is buttered, and they both won’t risk losing their tenure by pissing me off. Forbes chairs the committee, so he’s in charge of setting the agenda for the meeting.” With a smirk, he leaned in closer over the table. “Hold off on filing your grievance until after Thanksgiving. Forbes said he could spring it on her with less than a day’s notice. The meeting is on a Friday, but she won’t even know until Thursday night.” 

Dougal nodded, pleased. He leaned back as the waitress brought their food, waiting for her to leave before he spoke again in a low murmur. 

“I’ve got something even better. We might even be able to get her fired immediately. Jocasta accidentally spilled the beans that our dear sweet Dr. Beauchamp committed a federal crime. A FERPA violation. Apparently, they had a little private conference about her daughter over Parents Weekend. Normally, I wouldn’t care. It’s a stupid law, but this time…”

“I love it!” Louis laughed. “It’s perfect. Together with her _horrific_ safety violation and _reckless_ disregard for your QB, I think you’re right. I’d love to see her squirm first, though. I was thinking I might just make her an offer of my own. Maybe speak up in her favor in exchange for spreading her legs? She’d do it I bet. She doesn’t want to have to leave her lover-boy if she’s fired.”

Phil scoffed, “Get over yourself, Lou. She’d never agree and you know it.” 

“Oh, I know…” Louis sighed, rolling his eyes. “I know, but a dude can dream, right?” 

Phil hummed in amusement. “Mmm-hmm… and I know exactly what kind of dream you’ll have about her. If she shows her face at Colum’s Christmas party, I might try to give that gorgeous ass of hers a squeeze.”

“Right before Fraser breaks your jaw,” Louis snickered. “But maybe that could work…while Fraser’s pounding your sorry ass into the ground, I’ll be pounding into her up in Colum’s bedroom.” 

Dougal took a big bite of his burger. He wished the two would quit with the adolescent fantasies and be serious, but he couldn’t get her fired without their help, so he stuffed down his frustration along with a few of his fries. 

“So the plan is that I file the complaint after Thanksgiving,” he interjected, trying to get them back on track, counting on his fingers as he spoke. “Safety violation for being on the field at all, reckless endangerment of a player due to an untrained bystander giving an unauthorized medical treatment, and the FERPA? Should I send them a copy of Jo’s email?”

“Probably a good idea,” Phil agreed. “Hey, are you bringing her in the loop on this? I know you were thinking about it.” 

“Nah.” Dougal dipped a couple fries into his ketchup before popping them into his mouth. “No need. I have the email. She’s a fickle bitch anyway. Best to leave her be. What she doesn’t know won’t hurt her.”

“Are you going to tell Colum?” Louis queried, his mouth full but apparently not caring. 

“I might. Or I might not. I’m not sure. It’s tricky with him,” Dougal mused, taking a swig of his beer. “I can’t afford to be on his bad side, not if I want to make a play for the presidency when he retires, but it might not hurt to let him know that Fraser’s girlfriend is a troublemaker. Make Fraser damaged goods by association. I’ll need to be diplomatic though. Colum has a soft spot for the bastard.” He took a breath and let it out in a huff. “No matter. So we’re good for now? I’ll wait, and we’ll spring the trap in December.” 

“Sounds like a plan.” Phil smirked. “This will be delicious to watch. Fraser’s always been a little too perfect. I’m going to enjoy hearing about his reaction when she gets fired.”

“ _If_ she gets fired,” Louis corrected. “Bain, Brown and Forbes better not fuck this up. God, they sound like a cheap ambulance-chasing law firm.”

Everyone laughed at that. 

“If they do fuck it up,” Dougal replied, his voice dripping with sarcasm, “Maybe have a talk with the tenure committee.”

The conversation shifted to the upcoming winter sports season, with Dougal speculating on the prospects for the various teams. He picked up the check, this time without even a token objection from the two. They left, promising to keep in touch by text. As Dougal drove home in silence, his thoughts drifted unbidden to Geillis, and he imagined the waterfall of her red hair spread out on his pillow and his arm reaching out, pulling her naked body to his own. 

  
  


*****

  
  


“When are ye done with yer finals?” Jamie asked as he loaded the dishes in the dishwasher.

“December 10th, I think? It’s the day before Colum’s party. I have an early slot. I’ll probably spend the rest of the day grading.” Claire wiped down the counter, then dried her hands with a dish towel. “When do you want to leave for the cabin?” 

Jamie smiled at the thought. He still couldn’t quite believe that she had agreed to go away with him for the entire break—more than three weeks. Ever since she had agreed, his mind was constantly drifting to thoughts of the two of them all alone for nearly a month. His cock twitched. 

“How about the 16th? That’s a Wednesday. Grades are due on the 15th, but ye’ll probably be done before then.” 

“Too right. I’m ready to be done with the whole semester.” 

Jamie laughed. “Now ye sound like a typical professor. I told ye that ye’d fit right in. Everybody’s ready to be done wi’ it by Thanksgiving. Then ye hang in for the last few weeks ‘til finals. Of course, the rest of yer work begins when theirs ends.” 

“Actually, it’s been pretty good overall.” She pushed the start button on the dishwasher and looked up at Jamie, meeting his eyes. “Thank you for all your help. I wouldn’t have survived this first semester if it hadn’t been for you.” 

Jamie blushed, his ears turning pink. “It was my pleasure. Truly. Mebbe I smoothed out a few bumps for ye, but ye’d have done just fine on yer own.” He pulled her into his arms and kissed her curls, tucking her head under his chin. 

“Hmmm…I doubt that,” she whispered into his chest. “You’ve been a lifesaver, James Fraser. You helped me find my confidence.” 

She pressed a kiss to his sternum before pulling away from him. “So, the 16th it is. Right. How can I help? I know you asked me, but it’s not like an ordinary date, is it?” 

Jamie’s heart warmed and he answered softly, “No it isn’t.” 

He’d been so caught up in the fact that she’d said yes and the thought of being in her bed the whole time that he hadn’t really stopped to consider the logistics of it. He’d only been to the cabin once before, and then only for a weekend in August with Murtagh and a few other male friends. They had all slept on the floor at night and swam in the lake or kayaked during the day. They had mostly grilled burgers or sausage on the deck, and eaten junk food while playing poker into the night, drunk on beer and whisky. None of that sounded especially suitable for three weeks in the winter with Claire. And it would be Christmas too. 

He realized he wanted to make it special for her. Unlike his family, she’d never really had any holiday traditions growing up, and he was seized by the idea of making it perfect for her — to maybe create some traditions for the future he had begun to imagine for them. 

“Come on, I can’t have you doing all the work,” Claire needled him. “I realize I’m not exactly the best cook, but I want to do something to help. What’s the cabin like, anyway? Are we going to have to chop our own wood and cook over the fire?” 

“Och, no,” Jamie quickly interjected. “It’s verra modern. We’ve got light, heat, running water…even satellite TV. Suzette isn’t the type to rough it much. It does have a fireplace, but we dinna need it for heat. I’ve no’ been there in winter, but I think we’ll manage all right. We might need to drive into town to do laundry and shop, but that’s it.”

“Can I at least handle breakfasts? I’ll plan to shop for enough to last us half the time to start? Please?” She looked up at him with an exaggerated pout, and his heart melted.

“Aye, fine…” He smirked. “I guess I might no’ object to breakfast in bed.”

“I think that could be arranged,” she purred. 

But what would he do? Jamie decided that he needed to get the keys from Murtagh as soon as possible, and make a quick run to the cabin to see what supplies he needed to buy…maybe take up some decorations. 

But all that could wait. 

Claire was running her fingers through his hair and nuzzling into his neck with her nose. He wrapped his arms around her a little tighter and reached down to squeeze her arse. _God,_ he loved her arse. Just the sight of it at work was enough to give him an embarrassing cockstand. More than once he’d needed to retreat quickly behind his desk or whatever piece of furniture was available when she suddenly interrupted a meeting with colleagues.

“Any chance ye might pack a holiday surprise from Madame Jeanne’s?” he whispered in her ear, his teasing voice filled with laughter.

“Oh, if you’re a good boy, I think Santa might bring you something special,” she teased in return. 

He could feel her smile and it warmed him. But then, _oh God_ —the question occurred to him— what would he give her? Claire hadn’t yet shared any feelings beyond affection and enjoyment of his company, and neither had he. Of course, this was not for any lack of feeling on his part; Jamie was becoming more certain by the minute that he loved her and wanted to spend the rest of his life with her, but the fear that always followed on the heels of that thought was that she might not return his love, or was too hurt by her first marriage to ever consider the possibility again. He thought she felt the same way as he did, but he couldn’t be completely certain. Would he risk telling her his feelings at the cabin? Say the “L” word? What if she turned on her heels and fled? Could he live with himself, losing her like that? There would be no un-saying it once the words were out, hanging in the air. 

But, _Christ,_ could he hold himself back, all alone with her for three weeks? Maybe it was best if he could plan it, prepare her; convince her of his feelings with his actions first. He needed to show her how much he loved her, to demonstrate to her beyond a shadow of a doubt that he wasn’t like her ex — that he cherished her and adored her beyond reason, that he would love her until his dying breath. 

Claire had told him that she couldn’t really remember holidays with her parents, and that celebrations were minimal at best, with her uncle and that bastard of a husband. She hadn’t really had a proper Christmas in decades. She’d spoken of it with a tinge of melancholy in her voice, a sadness that her glass face couldn’t hide. 

_That’s it,_ he realized. He decided in the moment that he would go all out. She would have a Christmas like no other. He would decorate the cabin, cook her a proper Christmas dinner, surround her with love. He would worship her with his body, again and again, showing her with his touch how much he loved her.

The pearls. That would be his gift. His mother’s pearls. He would tell her they were “vintage,” at first, so that even if she rejected him after he declared his feelings, he could insist that she keep the pearls, and at least she would have something precious from him forever. His stomach clenched at the possibility of losing her, but he quickly shoved the thought away, unable to face it. 

_No._ This _had_ to work. He would do whatever it took to win her over. 

“Hellooooo? Anybody in there?” Claire’s voice called him back to the present. 

“Oh, sorry.” Jamie smiled at her, pulling her closer. “I was jus’ thinking about how good it will be to get away when the semester’s done. I’m really looking forward to it, Claire.” 

She smiled, radiant. _Christ,_ he loved her. In his heart, he prayed more fervently than he’d ever prayed for anything in his life that she would return his love. 

“Me too, Jamie.” 

He reached down, catching her behind her knees, and scooped her up into his arms. Carrying her to the bedroom, he put her down, then undressed her piece by piece before she did the same for him. On the bed, he rolled her over onto her stomach, straddled her thighs, then leaned down and began to rub her shoulders, kneading her tense muscles gently but firmly. 

“It’s been a long week,” he whispered in her ear, then pressed his lips to her neck. “Let me work out all yer tension and stress. You jus’ relax.” 

It would begin tonight, he decided: proving his love. 

He threw himself into the task, massaging her shoulders, her back, her buttocks…working his way down and finally massaging her feet one by one. When he finished, he kissed her ankle, such a delicate beautiful ankle… He loved her bones and muscles, the fragile veins he could see through the skin behind her knee. He kissed there too, before moving on to the softness of her inner thighs. Her skin was like velvet, unimaginably soft as he gently rubbed the scruff of his cheek over it. 

He made love to her with his mouth, twice over, reveling in the taste and sensation of her, watching her tip over the edge once, and again… and _God_ , it filled his heart with pride, knowing that he could bring her such pleasure, knowing how she fell apart with his touch. Only then, when she was hot and swollen, her lush depths slick and ready, did he enter and seek his own satisfaction, filling her with his seed and his soul, desperately hoping she would take the latter as eagerly as the former. 

  
  



	30. Oil Change: November 16, 2020

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jamie puts his plan into action. Claire tries a new recipe. And...words are whispered.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This wee chapter is un-betaed, so any and all typos and horrible punctuation are completely my own!

[](https://ibb.co/4fx6Mkn)

“What in the world are you doing?” 

Jamie turned his head and looked to his left and could only see her feet. He was laying under her car, trying not to drip oil on himself.

“Changin’ yer oil, Sassenach,” he called out. “Ye’re about due for it. Checked yer other fluids too. And yer tires. Ye should probably replace the front ones. The tread is lookin’ a wee bit thin and ye dinna want that with winter comin’. I’ll take care of that as soon as I’m done wi’ the oil. We canna have ye drivin’ in a blizzard wi’ tires like that. I should have done it when the weather was so nice last week, but better late than never. Tomorrow we’re supposed to get snow.”

He scooted himself out, and stood up, shaking out his hair. 

“Dinna fash.” He gave her a quick peck on the cheek. “I’ve got ye covered.” 

“Thank you,” Claire replied, her astonishment still clear in her tone. “But I was planning to get the oil done next week. You didn’t have to do all this.”

He wiped his hands on a rag before turning to pull her into a hug. 

“I know I didna have to. I wanted to.” He nuzzled into her neck, smelling her hair. “Better that I do it anyway. Lots o’ places jus’ try to rip off women. They dinna do good work, they overcharge ye, sell ye crap ye dinna need…it’s no’ right, but it happens.” 

“Don’t I know it. I’ve run into a few of those types before.” She stroked her hand up and down his back. “Thank you. Really. This makes my life so much easier.”

Jamie beamed. _This_ was exactly part of the plan—show her his feelings in a thousand little ways that would prove his love, then risk it all and take the plunge to say it out loud when they were at the cabin. So far, so good… 

  
*****

  
Claire looked at him with amazement. _What_ had gotten into him lately? He was always kind and generous, but the past few days she noticed a change—like his usual demeanor was amped up a notch or two. Not that she minded, but she wondered nevertheless. 

And this? Winterizing her car for her? She wasn’t used to someone taking care of her like this. She mentally added “incredibly thoughtful” to her growing list of reasons why she loved him so much. It also called to mind her conversation with Geillis. Maybe it would really be okay when she finally spoke her feelings to him. In any case, she’d also felt a little guilty. She’d been on the receiving end of so much kindness and care from Jamie that she wanted to reciprocate. 

An hour later, he was back from replacing her front tires. And he hadn’t stopped at that. He’d gotten her a complete winter emergency kit for her trunk—shovel, salt, blanket, hand warmers…the works. Claire’s jaw had dropped when he showed her all of it. 

“Something smells good!” He sniffed the air as they walked in the front door.

“I made cock-a-leekie soup. I seem to remember you mentioning it as a favorite from back home. I guarantee it’s not as good as Jenny’s, but I tried. I got the recipe off the Internet.” Claire suddenly felt awkward. _Why_ had she tried to do this? Cooking anything made her nervous, but cooking one of Jamie’s favorites. Oh, God. _What_ was she thinking? 

He walked into the kitchen, rubbing his cold hands together before pulling her into his embrace and kissing her neck. A few minutes later they sat down to their meal. 

“This is good, Sassenach!” Jamie professed between eager spoonfuls. “Ye did a braw job with it. It’s no’ exactly like Jenny’s but it’s delicious. Truly.” 

Claire breathed a sigh of relief. “I have something else for you.”

“Oh?” He looked up at her with the lopsided half-smile and raised eyebrow that made her stomach flip. 

“Not _that_ , silly…” she laughed, inwardly delighted at where his mind had immediately gone. “I was at the community library’s used book sale today. I noticed that you’ve been reading that book by the British astronaut, and I know how much you love anything to do with space, so when I saw a copy of Mark Kelly’s book from a few years back, I snapped it up for you.” She reached down and brought up the book, placing it on the table between them.

“Och, thank you!” Jamie beamed. “It’s about his year aboard the space station. I havena had a chance to read it. I’ll bring it wi’ me to the cabin.”

Claire smiled. She knew of his obsession with all things NASA, and hoped he hadn’t read this particular book yet. She felt good to be able to return some of his kindness.

“I picked up a few novels for myself as well,” she added. “It will be nice to have the time to read something other than student essays.”

“Aye, it will.” He smiled at her with a warmth in his eyes that felt like sunshine hitting her skin. 

He ate three bowls of soup, leading Claire to conclude that he really did like it and wasn’t just being polite, much to her great relief. After cleaning up, they curled up on the couch together and watched the news hour on PBS. About halfway through, Jamie whispered something into her curls, so soft and quiet that she barely heard it. 

“One of these days, you’re going to have to teach me some Gaelic,” she joked, turning her head to look at him. “At least enough that I can tell if you’re secretly complaining about my cooking.”

“Soon, Sassenach…” he murmured, pulling her closer into his arms. “Dinna fash. I’m no’ complaining.” 

  
******

  
He couldn’t help it. At least in Gaelic, he could speak from his heart, passing it off as fluff when she asked. He tried to be quiet, but he had to say it—speak it into the universe—in hopes that it would somehow take root in her soul and become reality someday. He whispered his wish as quietly as he could, almost like a prayer, for he was certain his heart would burst if he didn’t. 

_“Tha mi airson a phòsadh dhut…”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Surprise!! I had intended to post this tomorrow, but the forecast is for snow in upstate NY!! So Jamie (and I) figured he'd better get the job done now ahead of the bad weather. 
> 
> The astronaut book that Claire bought for Jamie is a nod to Sam's real life interest in all things NASA. 
> 
> Translation: I want to marry you. 


	31. Work and Whisky: November 20, 2020

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jamie makes a trip to the cabin to check things out. Claire and Jamie's evening includes Shakespeare, whisky and a few surprises.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next week is Thanksgiving in the USA, and I want to say that I am thankful for all of you who read, comment here or on Twitter, and leave kudos. You all are kind and supportive and generous and I deeply appreciate each and every one of you. 
> 
> Because next week is a holiday, and I will be busy wrangling a large bird for my immediate family (damn Covid) there will be one mini chapter which will post on Thanksgiving Day, which is Thursday. Things will get back to normal the following week and I promise you it will be a VERRA interesting week. 
> 
> This chapter is un-beta-ed, so any mistakes and typos are my own.

Jamie had taken the day off. He’d left early, at six in the morning, grabbing a strong mug of coffee for the road along with a breakfast sandwich from Dunkin. It took a good three hours to get to the cabin on narrow and winding roads, with the final stretch being only gravel and dirt. The cabin itself was near the southern end of Stillwater Reservoir, deep in the Adirondack preserve. He had gotten the keys from Murtagh a few days earlier and planned to spend the day there, doing as much as he could to prepare ahead of time for Claire’s arrival next month. Jamie figured he’d probably do a second run a day or two before they arrived to stock the place with fresh food and do last minute preparations. 

He parked his SUV, stepped out into the cool pine-scented air, took a deep breath and stretched. Unlocking the cabin door, he stepped inside. The interior was typical Adirondack style— very rustic, with lots of plaid and a smattering of moose and bear motifs. The main floor had a stone fireplace, complete with the mounted head of a buck that Murtagh had bagged on a hunting trip many years before. First he checked that the central heat was working, along with all the appliances and the water heater. Everything being in order, he dug in and spent the next three hours cleaning the place from top to bottom. He scrubbed, scoured, vacuumed, and swept every inch of the cabin until it sparkled. It might need a wee bit of dusting the next time he came, but that would be all. He then checked the woodpile, making sure that there was an adequate supply of cut wood for the fireplace, and that it was sheltered from the rain and snow. Satisfied with the state of things, his thoughts turned to Christmas. 

Standing in the living room, he tried to look at it with the eyes of a decorator. He’d downloaded the Pinterest app and had been perusing holiday decoration ideas, wondering what Claire might like. She wasn’t one for lots of over-the-top glitz, he mused. She wasn’t the excessively cutesy type either. After staring at the room for several minutes, he settled on using natural greenery with lots and lots of twinkle lights. Nearly every Pinterest page had twinkle lights, he reasoned, and he didn’t think he could screw them up too badly. They would need a tree, of course, but he’d get a fresh cut one at the last minute. He made a few notes, then sat down to eat the lunch he had packed. 

His thoughts drifted a month in the future as he pictured Claire seeing the place for the first time. He imagined lighting the fireplace and sharing a dram of whisky before making love in the large four-poster bed upstairs…or maybe even in front of the fire. He envisioned starry skies over the lake, and maybe even a glimpse of the northern lights if they were lucky... _Christ,_ he wanted it all to be perfect. 

After finishing his lunch, he drove the 45 minutes into Lowville, the nearest town with a big box store. Usually, he found the presence of Christmas displays before Thanksgiving to be a wee bit annoying, but today, he was grateful. He walked out with a dozen boxes of twinkle lights, some craft supplies, along with ornaments for the tree and two stockings to hang by the fire on Christmas Eve. Back at the cabin, he carefully wrote Claire’s name on her stocking with glitter glue and left it to dry alongside his own. It wasn’t exactly Pinterest-worthy, but it would have to do. 

It was getting late, and he and Claire had plans for the evening. Leaving all the decorations in the cabin, he drove the three hours back to his apartment. It had been a long day, but Jamie felt energized and excited as he grabbed a quick shower before picking up Claire. A half hour later, he leaned over to kiss her as she stepped into his SUV. 

“I haven’t seen Macbeth in ages,” she noted as she put on her seatbelt. “I heard it’s a tradition?” 

“Aye, ‘tis,” Jamie answered as he backed out onto the street. “The Scottish play, ye ken. The theater department puts it on once every four years so that every student has a chance to see it when they’re here. Ye canna call yerself a Leoch graduate if ye didna see it when ye were a student.”

She nodded. “So, where were you today? I didn’t see you on campus and the SASS student worker said you took the day off.” 

“Och, nothing much…” Jamie tried to deflect without flat-out lying. “Jus’ catching up on things. Ran a lot of errands… how was your day?” 

“An ordinary Friday,” she mused before reaching a hand over to his thigh, giving it a squeeze. “It’s getting better…” 

“Och, is it now…” He glanced her way, flashing her a lopsided half-smile. 

In the darkened theater, Jamie’s arm found its way around Claire’s shoulder, and she leaned into him, resting her head against his arm. He was feeling happier than he had in years. He kissed her curls and pulled her a little closer as his thoughts drifted unbidden to his unfolding plan to prove himself to her, before sending out yet another prayer that she would return his love.

He had time, he reasoned. Time enough, he hoped, to make his feelings clear. Time enough to show her that he wasn’t like her rat-bastard ex. He knew enough about the man to hate him to the marrow of his bones. 

Whatever Frank (and he hated even the thought of that name) had done, Jamie would do the opposite. Frank had put her down. He would build her up. Frank had ignored her. He would make her the center of his world. Frank had neglected her physical needs. He would satisfy them. He hated the man, but he honestly couldn’t understand him either. How could anyone lucky enough to have Claire be so incredibly stupid? 

The sound of applause brought him back to the moment, and he realized that it was curtain-call already, and he’d spent the entire play lost in thought. Shaking his head, he came back to the present, and removed his arm from around Claire’s shoulder as he stood up. A standing ovation was part of the tradition. 

  
  


*****

  
  


“I’ve got a surprise for you.” Claire unlocked the door of her apartment and stepped inside. They had left after the curtain call, then grabbed a quick late bite at a diner. 

“Hmm? I canna wait…” Jamie stepped up close behind her, wrapping his arms around her waist and nuzzling her neck. 

“That comes later.” Claire smiled, wiggling loose from his embrace. “I’ve decided that I want to learn more about whisky.” 

She led him by the hand to the kitchen, where 6 bottles of Scottish whisky were waiting for them at the table, along with two glasses. “And you are my personal expert instructor. The man at the store said these are a good mix to start with.” 

“Christ, Sassenach, how much did ye spend on all this?” Jamie stared, mouth agape as he picked up a bottle and looked it over. 

“A bit.” She grinned mischievously. “I don’t think they’ll go to waste.” 

“Definitely not.” 

Several glasses in, Claire was feeling loose and relaxed, pleasantly tipsy. Well, maybe more than a little tipsy. She could definitely distinguish a peaty single malt from a sherry-casked sweet variety, but the concept of ‘rounded peat’ vs. ‘light, coastal peat’ eluded her. From the look of him, Jamie was in a similar state of intoxication, even if his palate was better trained than hers. He’d enthusiastically consumed quite a bit more than she had. 

“So what’s up with you lately?” The question sort of bubbled up out of her, no doubt pushed from her lips by that last shot of Glenlivet…or was it Glenfiddich? It was something with Glen…she knew that much at least. 

“What do ye mean?” 

“It’s like you’ve been in another world all week. I look at you and you’re somewhere else.” 

_Oh God no..._ it couldn’t be.

Frank used to look distant too, especially when he was cheating on her. But Jamie couldn’t be cheating on her since there wasn’t any formal arrangement between them…

But it had felt special. Was she wrong all along? She tried to still her spinning head as she blurted out her unwelcome thought. 

“Are…are you seeing someone else?” 

Jamie’s eyes flew open. “No! _Christ, no!_ I promise ye I’m no’ seeing anyone! I’d never do that to ye, Sassenach. Never! My mind…weel, I am a wee bit distracted, that’s true. But I need ye to trust me. Just for a little while. I promise it won’t be long. Please understand, there’s no one else.” 

Even in her intoxicated state, she could see that he was visibly upset. 

“I realize that we never agreed to be exclusive, so I—”

He cut her off mid-sentence. 

“I want to be exclusive. From now on. I dinna want to see anyone else.” He looked her directly in the eye. “Please… can we be exclusive? I promise ye that I’m no’ like him.”

She paused, hesitant at first, but just like that fateful day in her office, she realized yet again that he wasn’t Frank, and it wasn’t fair to dump all her old baggage onto him. If the past week had shown her anything, it had shown her just how different they really were. 

“Yes.” 

“Yes?” 

“Yes,” she reassured him, reaching out her hand across the table and interlacing her fingers with his. 

“I promise I havena seen anyone since we met. I dinna want to be with anyone else, Claire. Ye have to believe me,” he pleaded, with a tinge of desperation that rang true, even as drunk as she was. 

“I believe you.”

They both stood up, instinctively seeking each other’s embrace, and came together in a solid hug, each holding tightly to the other. 

“I swear to ye I’ll no’ see anyone else.” He reached up to stroke her face. 

“Me too. I promise. No one else.” She kissed him, then led him by the hand to her bedroom, swaying slightly as she walked. 

Two steps into the room, she saw it. It was sitting on her nightstand, still plugged in to the charger where she had left it that morning. _Shit_ … She couldn’t just casually reach over and put it back in the drawer. Maybe he wouldn’t notice at all, and if he ducked out to the bathroom, she could stash it away. _Bloody hell..._ Frank’s disapproval of such sick, perverted things came flooding back into her whisky-fogged mind, and she panicked. 

Jamie. What would he say? Worse, what would he _think_? 

She grabbed him by the collar, spinning him around so he was facing away from it, and began to unbutton his shirt. He responded in kind, and before she knew it, their clothing was scattered on the floor and they were crashing down on the bed together, a giddy jumble of bare limbs and laughter. He was kissing her everywhere. 

“No one else, Claire.” He nuzzled his nose against her collarbone, smiling. “Ye’re stuck wi’ me.” 

“I’m stuck, am I?” 

“Ye are, Sassenach.” He flipped her over onto her back, pinning her down with his arms as he straddled her, laughing, peppering her breasts with kisses. “Completely stuck. No escape.”

She could tell the moment he saw it out of the corner of his eye. An utterly shit-eating grin spread across his face. She was mortified, completely at a loss for words. 

“Och, ye have another surprise for me tonight, do ye Sassenach? A wee toy?” 

He let go of her hands and reached over to the nightstand, unplugging her vibrator. He gazed at it curiously, but Claire saw, not with anything resembling disgust or anger. He pressed a button, then jumped slightly as it began to buzz intermittently. He pressed the button again and the pattern changed. 

“I didna know these had different settings. What’s yer favorite?” He smirked at her, one eyebrow raised. 

“You don’t mind?” Claire’s heart was pounding in her chest, and her voice shook a little as the words escaped her lips. 

“Why should I mind? I ken that we’re exclusive now, but it really only applies to humans, no’ electronic devices. Besides, I want to know what ye like.” 

Claire giggled with delight and a flood of relief. _Oh no_ , she thought. He’s _definitely_ not Frank. 

“Can I tell you a secret?” 

“Aye.” 

Claire giggled again, her head pleasantly spinning along with the room.

“Remember at convocation? When you caught me staring at you?” She stroked a hand over his inner thigh. 

“Aye, ye were havin’ a keek up my kilt if I recall…”

“I was.” She smirked as she traced her finger down his torso. “When I got home that night, I thought of you while I played with this.” She touched the purple silicone. 

“Did ye now…” He flopped down beside her clumsily, propping himself up with his elbow. “So how was wee electric me?” 

She laughed again, louder this time, her inhibitions fading. “Not bad, but not nearly as good as the real you.” She reached over and pulled his mouth to hers, greeting him with a deep kiss. 

“Show me.” He breathed into her mouth as he pressed the vibrator into her hand. “I want to watch you.”

Hesitating only a moment, Claire pushed one of the buttons, then another. She lay back, resting her head on the pillow. Jamie was on his side next to her, one hand lazily stroking a nipple. She smiled to herself, then spread her legs, resting one over Jamie’s thighs. Positioning it just so, Claire began to stroke gently as she moved her hips in rhythm. She opened her eyes to see Jamie gazing down at her, pupils blown wide, his cock rapidly hardening against her hip. She turned her head toward him. 

“Do you want me to finish?” 

“Oh God, yes…” he replied, his voice low and husky. She could still smell the whisky on his breath. 

She arched her back and picked up the pace, her breath coming heavier and quicker now. Jamie’s hand stroked her breasts more intentionally, squeezing and kneading. Before long, Claire gasped, quickly pressing the vibrator inside herself as she rode out the waves of her climax, moaning as it gradually subsided. Sated for the moment, she slipped it out, turned it off and put it back on the nightstand. 

“Christ, I like watching ye go to pieces.” Jamie kissed her collarbone.

He rolled over on top of her, positioning himself between her legs and kissing her neck. 

“Ready?”

Claire nodded her consent, and he entered slowly, making her bite her lip with anticipation of being filled completely. Even in her drunken state, she was elated. Not only had he not shamed or rejected her when he saw it, he wasn’t threatened by it at all. He accepted her completely, and it made her love him even more. Never in her life had she felt so open, so completely accepted and…perhaps…possibly… _loved?_

He thrust into her over and over, and she moved with him, crying out and groaning, her head still pleasantly swirling from the whisky. His large hands reached underneath her to squeeze her arse, and she ground herself against him, chasing another wave that was building within her. She was feral…wild with lust, her inhibitions gone as he hammered into her again and again. The wave crashed over them both, and the room filled with the sounds of their ecstasy. He collapsed onto her, before rolling to the side, gasping for air. 

He pulled her into his arms, and she cuddled close, into the spot where she perfectly fit. He mumbled something in Gaelic as they drifted off to sleep... whisky-drunk, desire sated, and utterly, completely content. 


	32. Potluck: November 26, 2020

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jamie and Claire go to an alternate Thanksgiving potluck at Geillis and Louise's house, with other expats to feast together and enjoy some good friends and good food.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Thanksgiving to readers in the USA!! I'm thankful for YOU, dear reader, who are always so kind and supportive of this work. 
> 
> My husband is from Germany, and while he enjoys Thanksgiving, he's always found the food a little weird and extremely "American." I can imagine a group of non-US Leoch faculty getting together and eschewing the turkey and cranberry sauce for something more eclectic. Hence, Geillis and Louise's potluck. 
> 
> Next week is a big one with three chapters. Stay tuned!

[ ](https://ibb.co/cLY1Xrh)

6:00 PM 

“Och, look at them! The sweetest beans! Are they no’ just the cutest!!” Geillis gushed. 

Jamie opened one eye. “Ye do realize that we can hear every word ye’re sayin’, don’t ye? We’re no’ asleep. We’re jus’ digesting…and listening to the game.”

He and Claire were curled up together on the couch in Geillis and Louise’s living room. They had stayed late to help clean up after the Thanksgiving potluck, then had settled in to watch a little American football on the TV. 

“Aye, I know, ye numpty,”she gently chided him. “I canna help it. Ye’re both just so adorable. And ye’re welcome, Fraser. If ye recall, I was the one who introduced the two of ye. I dinna think ye’ve ever properly acknowledged that.”

He opened both eyes and looked directly at her, full of sincerity. 

“Thank you, Geillis. Truly.”

She nodded, a smirk spreading across her face. “That’s more like it.”

Claire stretched and extracted herself from Jamie’s relaxed embrace. “It’s halftime, Jamie. We really should go.” 

“Aye, ye’re right.” Jamie stood up and stretched.

“Your curry was delicious, Claire,” Louise interjected. “I don’t want to hear a word from you ever again about not being a good cook.”

“Thank you,” Claire replied, blushing a little. “I watched a video online from this Australian guy— he has a Youtube channel. He’s covered in tattoos and he’s constantly swearing, but honestly, it’s the only cooking show I can stand to watch, and his recipes aren’t too difficult.”

Jamie patted his stomach. “Everything was delicious. It might no’ have been a traditional American Thanksgiving dinner, but I do feel quite well stuffed. Yi Tien’s homemade dumplings were incredible. I lost count of how many I ate.”

“He does them every year,” Louise explained. “We practically get an entire Dim Sum buffet just from him. I keep telling him he doesn’t have to bring so much, but he insists on doing it anyway.”

“Well, I’m no’ complaining. What do ye think, Sassenach? Should we host a potluck of our own sometime and invite Dr. Cho?”

“That sounds like a very sneaky way to get more dumplings.” Claire laughed and punched Jamie gently on the arm. 

“I’m a verra sneaky man, Sassenach…” Jamie wrapped his arms around Claire from behind and nuzzled into her curls.

Grinning, Geillis shook her head. “Out now, both of ye! Go get a room. Ye canna keep yer hands off o’ each other. I kept expectin’ ye to sneak off into the coat closet and go at it behind the winter parkas, ye ridiculous wee beans!” 

“Now, there’s an idea…” Jamie squeezed Claire a little tighter and nibbled her neck. “I could’ve had ye when everyone else was watchin’ the parade.” 

Giggling at first, Claire then composed herself enough to thank her hosts. “Thank you for a wonderful time, both of you. We’ll have to have you over sometime soon.”

“Och, are ye living together now?” Geillis raised an eyebrow.

Claire blushed and quickly corrected herself. “No…sorry…I mean I’ll have to invite you both—”

“I ken what ye mean, hen.” 

A few minutes later, Claire and Jamie stepped out into the chilly November air, leftovers in hand. Geillis shut the door behind them and turned to Louise.

“So what do ye think?” 

“I think you should add ‘matchmaker’ to your CV. Those two are over the moon! He’s a lovesick puppy and she’s got a chronic case of heart-eyes. I don’t know her very well, but I do know I’ve never seen him in such a state in all my years at Leoch. That boy is _gone_.” 

“My money’s on them eloping to Vegas next summer,” Geillis mused.

“My money’s on spring break.” Louise snorted. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> FYI, there really is a heavily tattooed Aussie who swears a lot while he cooks. Google "Nat's What I Reckon chicken curry" for a good laugh and to learn Claire's chicken curry recipe.


	33. By the Pricking of My Thumbs: November 30, 2020

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jamie is leaving for a conference in Chicago and discusses his plans with Claire.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope all my US readers had a nice Thanksgiving this year, even if it might have been a smaller affair than usual. As always, thank you for reading and following the story of these two. I've grown rather attached to them over the course of the semester, and I hope you have too.

[ ](https://ibb.co/qFycXBj)

10:00 PM

“I’ll miss ye, Sassenach.” Jamie pulled her closer. She was laying half on top of him, her leg draped over his as his hand stroked down the expanse of her bare back. 

Claire stroked her fingers through the hair on his chest. “What time is your flight?” 

“Och, the crack of dawn. Canna be otherwise. Colum is a miser when it comes to travel funding and the earlier flights are cheaper.” 

“My poor lad," she crooned. 

“Dinna fash.” He planted a kiss on the top of her head. “It’s no’ so bad. I enjoy the conference. It’s nice to network. At least I’m no’ givin’ a presentation like last year. All I have to do this time is participate in some panel discussions.”

“Any other plans?”

“No’ much. I might sneak off to the Art Institute for a few hours. There’s an exhibition on loan from the Orsay in Paris. November in Chicago isn’t exactly the most pleasant time o’ year to visit the city, but the exhibition is worth venturing out into the cold.” He reached over with his free hand to give her arse a squeeze before murmuring into her curls. “Ye’re more beautiful than anything in that museum.”

“Mmmm…well, my arse is as big as some of the women in the Renoirs. That’s for sure.” Claire’s breath came short as she realized that her insecurities had slipped out yet again, and she wondered if there was any woman on the planet who didn’t have body image issues. She quickly tried to think of a way to change the subject. 

“Hey,” he murmured as he reached a finger under her chin, tipping her face up to look at his own. “Ye ken that yer arse is one of my favorite things about ye—lovely and bonny and round. I’ve been staring at it since the first day we met. I mean it, Claire. Ye’re perfect just the way ye are. Dinna change a thing.” 

“Thank you.” She gulped awkwardly. “I think all women feel inadequate one way or another. You’re sweet.”

“I’m no’ just sayin’ it to be sweet. It’s true. Whoever told ye that ye’re anything less than beautiful is a liar.” He stroked her cheek, his ocean-blue eyes holding her own. She had a feeling she knew who he meant by “whoever” and it warmed her heart. She nodded, and he changed the subject. 

“So how’s the rest of yer week? Have ye written yer finals yet?” 

“I’m nearly done with prepping them. Now all I have to deal with are nervous students. Mary Hawkins is driving me insane. She’s an A student, but she has a lot of test anxiety. She’s in my office constantly.” Claire sighed. 

“Have ye referred her for counseling? They always see a few extras this time of year—Mary isn’t the only one with test anxiety," he replied, drawing circles on her shoulder with his fingertips. 

“Hmmm… I’ll do that. It certainly couldn’t hurt. Anyway, with you away for a few days I plan on getting a lot of work done.” She shifted position, propping herself up with an elbow and trailing her fingers downward on his abdomen. “You really are distracting, you know. It’s a miracle that I get anything accomplished at all with you around. What time are you back on Friday?”

“Late afternoon. I have a meeting with Colum at four, so I’ll go straight there from the airport. I’ll see ye for dinner at six?”

“Sounds like a plan.” 

He rolled over, pinning her beneath him as he reached down to nibble her collarbone. “Let me distract ye some more…” 


	34. The Summons: December 3, 2020

[ ](https://ibb.co/HKtcScC)

Thu 12/3/20 3:30 PM  
From: fbain @ leoch.edu  
To: cbeauchamp @ leoch.edu  
Re: Grievance 

  
Dr. Beauchamp: 

The personnel committee has received a grievance report filed against you alleging several instances of inappropriate conduct with students. Please report to Crainesmuir Hall, Room 115 tomorrow, December 4, at 4 p.m..

  
Dr. F. Bain   
Assistant Professor of Religious Studies  
Chair, Personnel Committee   
Leoch College 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Most colleges have some sort of grievance and/or whistleblower procedure to deal with complaints about faculty. While it is very difficult to get a full tenured professor fired, someone like Claire who is new and doesn't have tenure would be more vulnerable. Leoch's is loosely based in reality, but reality is frankly much more boring, so I've compressed the time scale and amped up the drama for obvious reasons. 
> 
> Note for non-US readers: I've used the word "tenure" several times so far in this fic, and it dawned on me that I haven't really explained it. It's a form of job security that is meant to promote academic freedom (freedom of thought and expression) while protecting the professor from being fired for speaking controversial opinions. Usually, after a professor has been with a college/university for several years (7 is common), they are granted tenure unless there are serious problems (ethical violations, poor evaluations, etc...) in which case, they don't receive it and usually leave. Once a person receives tenure, it is extremely difficult to fire them. 
> 
> In the US, tenure track positions are becoming less common as colleges/universities move toward away from traditional academic structures and toward more business-like ones. This is an extremely controversial topic within academia, since it has resulted in fewer tenured positions and more adjuncts and contract faculty who have no job security and very low pay.


	35. The Committee: December 4, 2020

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Claire appears before the personnel committee to answer for the grievance filed against her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mucho thanks to my wonderful beta for this chapter, Danielle, aka SmashingTeacups, who always makes everything I write better, and is determined to save me from my ellipsis addiction. Bless her!

[ ](https://ibb.co/mDDcYsX)

3:25 PM Office of the President 

Colum stood and stretched before looking out the leaded panes of his office window. He had a fantastic view of the athletic fields, the quad and the other main buildings of campus in the distance, and often watched the students walking to and from classes as he sipped his coffee…or brandy, depending on the time of day. 

The Presidential Suite occupied most of the top floor of Caledonia Hall, the oldest and by far the most ivy-covered building on campus. It consisted of the outer waiting area where his personal secretary worked, a small conference room with attached kitchen, and his private office. Most people, faculty and administration alike, were often intimidated by that particular space, and tended to avoid it unless summoned. Antique bookcases filled with gilt-edged volumes, Turkish carpets, oak paneling, leather wingback chairs, the massive antique desk…collectively they whispered that this was a room where deals were made, where old money ruled, where careers could be shaped or broken. 

Jocasta set down her purse by her favorite chair and greeted Colum before pouring herself a whisky from one of several crystal decanters that occupied a side table. Taking a sip, she strolled over to the birdcage next to the window where he was standing.

“Hello, sweeties,” she crooned. Three parakeets cocked their heads and looked at her quizzically before returning to the important business of preening their feathers. “So, why did you want to see me?” 

“I’ve made a decision.” 

“Oh?” She took another sip, then looked out the window absentmindedly before meandering back across the room. Colum joined her, settling into a chair after flipping a switch resulting in orange flames in the fireplace flickering to life. 

“I’m retiring after the spring semester,” Colum explained, his voice flat. “It’s time. My hip isn’t getting any better; I’ll need that replacement soon. When that’s done, I want to travel with Letitia while my health is still good. We’re thinking of a round-the-world cruise.” 

“I’m happy for you.” Jocasta nodded, fingering her glass. “It sounds like you’ve settled on a path. Ulysses and I will miss you here, but we’ll all keep in touch I’m sure. If I thought we could leave the business for six months, we’d join you both on that cruise.” 

Colum chuckled, but his amusement faded into a pensive silence as he stared into the fire. “I want to talk to you about my replacement. I have someone in mind who I think would be a good choice.” 

“Fraser?” She raised an inquisitive eyebrow. 

“The very man. I think he’s what Leoch needs right now. I don’t see why we need to launch a full search if we can promote from in-house. I’ve already floated the possibility to him and he said he’d take the position if the board approves.” 

Jocasta nodded, swirling the whisky in her glass. “I agree. He’s excellent. I’d support him. Hal would too. So would Myers. I can get Clarence in line. I’ll work on him at the Christmas party. I’m not so sure about Fitzroy and Wiley.” 

“They rotate off in January, so they don’t matter… Actually, they’re part of why I wanted to talk to you. Angus saw them at the tavern with Dougal. Overheard some conversation. You know Dougal wants the presidency, don’t you?”

Jocasta waved her hand in dismissal. “Ridiculous. He’s not suited for it. Who’s Angus?” 

“Night shift security guard,” Colum replied, leaning back in his seat. “All my years in this job have taught me that the best thing you can do as president is to make friends with the security guards and the custodial staff. Get them on your side and you’re well set. They’re my eyes and ears. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve been alerted to some problem or brewing scandal from a janitor or security guard. Angus will get a nice holiday bonus from my discretionary fund. He’s very useful. Most people who work here have no idea who he is.” 

Jocasta stood up and went to refill her glass, bringing along a brandy for Colum. 

“Thanks.” Colum lifted his glass, touching it briefly to Jocasta’s. “Cheers.” 

He took a sip of his brandy before continuing. “Angus overheard that our dear Dougal is trying to exact his revenge on one Dr. Claire Beauchamp. He’s filed a grievance with the personnel committee. Fitzroy and Wiley are helping—pressuring the committee to recommend firing her. They’re having a disciplinary hearing today. In about a half hour.”

“Whatever for?” Jocasta wrinkled her brow in confusion. “I met her last month. She’s a delight. Oh wait, let me guess…something to do with Homecoming?” 

“Exactly. She challenged him in public. Reset William’s dislocated shoulder. She used to be a nurse, did you know that?”

“I assumed she had some sort of medical knowledge. She obviously knew what she was doing out there.” 

“Anyone with eyes would realize that.” Colum shook his head in frustration. “But you know our Dougal, he can’t let it go. He’s claiming that she gave unauthorized medical treatment. He’s also claiming that she illegally talked to you about Phaedre.” 

“That’s nonsense. She stood up to me—wouldn’t budge an inch to break…whatever that law is called. She didn’t say anything except that I needed to talk to my daughter.” Jocasta shifted in her seat, crossing her legs. “She’s got courage, that one does. I know half the faculty are terrified of me and the other half are at least a little intimidated. But not her. I like her. And I _love_ how she flustered Dougal. That alone is worth giving her tenure.” 

Colum chuckled. 

“You aren’t seriously going to consider Dougal’s grievance, are you? It’s baseless.” Jocasta waved her hand as though shooing away an imaginary mosquito. 

“Of course not. But you do know who she’s seeing, don’t you? Surely you’ve picked up that bit of gossip.” 

“Fraser.” Jocasta curled her lip into a half-smile.

Colum nodded, taking a sip of his brandy. 

Jocasta’s eyes widened. “Oh God, Colum…I know that look. What are you plotting now?” 

“Just a little test of his character.” Colum tapped his finger against his glass. “Jamie’s due here at four. I’m wondering how he’ll react to seeing Dr. Beauchamp essentially on trial with the potential to lose her job.” 

“Your camera?” Jocasta’s jaw dropped, and she began to laugh awkwardly. “Remind me not to get on your bad side.” 

Above the gas fireplace was a television. When Colum picked up a remote control and pressed a button, the screen flickered to life, showing a meeting room where people were gathering. Claire could be seen alone on one side of the large table, looking a little nervous. 

“This has been very handy,” Colum elaborated, fingering the remote. “Technically, I’m on every campus committee, but most of the time I’d rather watch from here than sit in that room. There’s no brandy and the chairs aren’t nearly as comfortable. If I want to talk, I can turn on my microphone, but most of the time I just observe. It’s amazing how much people will say when they forget you’re listening in.”

At that moment, the speaker on Colum’s desk buzzed, and his secretary’s voice could be heard. “Dr. Fraser’s here to see you.” 

“Send him in,” Colum answered, taking a sip of his brandy before turning to Jocasta. “This should be interesting…” 

She raised an eyebrow and pursed her lips as Jamie stepped into the office, briefcase in hand, still dressed in his suit and tie from the conference. 

“Jamie, good to see you,” Jocasta greeted him warmly, gesturing toward the table with the crystal decanters. “Help yourself to a drink.” 

“How was the conference?” Colum asked. 

“Och, pretty good…long day though,” he replied, pouring himself a whisky before joining them in front of the fire. He sat down next to Jocasta, placing his briefcase on the floor before sitting back in the chair. He took a sip of the whisky, then glanced up at the monitor above the fireplace. 

“What’s this?” Jamie asked, gesturing with his glass toward the screen. 

“Personnel committee.” Colum pressed a button, and the voice of Dr. Bain, Assistant Professor of Religious Studies, could be heard from the distant meeting room. 

  
  


*****

  
  


_“Dr. Claire Beauchamp,” Bain sneered, “I have three very serious grievances that have been submitted to this committee regarding your behavior. Are you aware of these grievances, and that if this committee judges that you are guilty of the infractions, we will recommend that you be terminated immediately?” He raised an eyebrow in Claire’s direction._

_“No, Dr. Bain,” Claire replied, her voice shaking ever so slightly. “I am not. I am unaware that I have done anything worthy of termination.”_

_"Well then,” he replied, scooting his glasses lower on his nose and glaring at Claire over them. “Allow me to enlighten you. One: trespassing without authorization onto an athletic field while a game was in progress. Two: administering unauthorized medical treatment to a student athlete without proper medical training. And three…” Bain paused for a moment, glowering in Claire’s direction. “Violating the Family Educational Rights and Privacy Act, otherwise known as FERPA, by disclosing private student information without the expressed permission of said student.”_

_“These are extremely troublesome charges, Dr. Beauchamp,” Neil Forbes interjected._

  
  


*****

  
  


Jamie’s eyes widened, and he looked back and forth between Colum and Jocasta, his blood pressure rising by the second. When he glanced back at the screen, he found that Claire looked shaken, but was obviously trying to keep her composure. 

“What the hell is the meaning of this?” he blurted. “Ye both know full well that there’s nothing to any of it! Claire _has_ medical training. She had the permission of both William and John on the field that day, and Jo knows full well that Claire didn’t violate FERPA!”

Jocasta cleared her throat, looking rather uncomfortable under Jamie’s glare. 

“Colum?” Jamie went on, “Ye ken this is baseless. Hal thanked Claire personally for helping William. And John was right there when it happened. What exactly is going on here?”

Colum cleared his throat. “Dougal brought the grievances with some…support…from a couple board members. You’re right. It is baseless. Dr. Beauchamp isn’t in any danger of being fired, but I felt it prudent to allow the process to… play itself out.”

“So ye’d put her through hell just for some damn process based on false charges from Dougal?” Jamie thundered, his voice getting louder by the second. “This is a witch hunt! A goddamn witch hunt! She’s been nothing but a hard-working professional, goin’ above and beyond for ye this semester and this is how ye treat her? This is how ye treat yer faculty?”

Jamie set down his half-empty whisky glass on the coffee table, stood up and headed for the door, leaving his briefcase behind.

“I’ll no’ let ye do this to her,” he said coldly as he opened the door to step out. 

As soon as he was out the door, he took off down the stairs and burst out of the emergency exit onto the quad. _Of course_ Colum’s office was as far as possible from the committee room on the opposite end of campus. He loosened his tie, unbuttoned his top button and took off at a sprint, immediately wishing his dress shoes were comfortable trainers instead. 

Crossing campus even at full speed took the better part of ten minutes, and Jamie was winded as he flung open the door to Crainesmuir Hall. His heart pounding in his chest, he ran down the hall to the committee room. He paused at the doors to take a deep breath, then pushed them open with considerably more force than necessary. As a result, the doors each banged against the walls of the room with a resounding slam, causing everyone in the room to turn their heads his direction. 

Breathing heavily, he looked to Claire who met his eyes with open-mouthed astonishment. Her face was blotchy and it was clear to him that she’d been crying. He took two strides toward her as she instinctively stood up to meet him. Putting a protective arm around her shoulder, he fixed his stare first at Bain and Forbes, then Phil Wiley, Louis Fitzroy and finally Dougal, who happened to be in attendance in spite of not being committee members. 

“This entire meeting is a sham,” he scoffed, struggling to keep his calm. “The so-called grievances are completely without grounds and ye ken it.”

Jamie then looked up at the camera in the corner of the ceiling, its green light blinking like an eye overseeing all that occurred in the room. He paused, then spoke directly to the camera, his voice full of fury that he was barely able to contain. 

“How dare ye? How dare ye toss around words like ‘let the process play itself out’ when ye know full well she’s done nothing wrong? I dinna care if this costs me the presidency, Colum. I willna stand by and watch the woman I love more than life itself treated like she’s some sort o’ criminal! Ye can take yer offer of career advancement and shove it up yer arse!” 

Jamie turned to Claire, his arm still around her shoulder. “Come, _mo ghraidh_.” 

He guided her out of the room, down the hall and out into the chilly December air. She was shaking like a leaf, whether from the cold or from the events of the last few minutes he couldn’t tell. She looked up at him, chin quivering, a smile slowly spreading across her face. 

“I love you too,” she whispered, her eyes welling once again. 

He realized then what he’d accidentally let slip in the committee room, and the comprehension of what she was saying in response hit him like a thunderbolt, knocking the breath out of him. He inhaled sharply, trying to take in oxygen as he processed what she’d said. 

_She loves me!_

His world tilted on its axis, as every cell in his body thrummed with the purest, most complete _joy_ he had ever experienced in his life. A tear slipped down his cheek and he whispered a silent prayer of thanks to the heavens. 

Wrapping her up in his embrace, they stood stock still, a universe of two — foreheads touching, her hands cradling his face gently— both repeating over and over the truth that kept spilling from their lips like water from a dam, finally bursting, surrendering to the overwhelming, unstoppable force of the torrent. 

_I love you, I love you, I love you..._

  
  


*****

“Our boy did well,” Jocasta chuckled. “Was it the reaction you hoped for?” 

“Even better,” Colum replied, smiling. 

They each took a sip of their drinks. 

“You can’t do this job well if the only thing you care about is your own ego.” Colum swirled his brandy in its glass. “He’s got a strong moral center and he cares about the college. He isn’t in love with power.” 

“No,” Jocasta murmured. “He’s in love with her.” 

  
  


*****

  
  


Unexpectedly ravenous, Claire devoured her Thai green curry as she and Jamie tried to piece together what had happened. They were back at her apartment, and after a round of frantic lovemaking, were at her kitchen table finishing their take-out. 

“It had to have been Fitzroy and Wiley,” Claire mused. “Weren’t they the two you warned me about back in August? They showed up, which seemed strange since no other board members were there, and they just stared at me like they were trying to undress me with their eyes the whole time.” 

“Aye, I think ye’re right.” Jamie took a sip of beer. “Colum said Dougal had help from a couple board members. I’d bet anything it was them.” 

“God…” Claire shook her head in disbelief at the whole mess. “They all just piled on. Bain, then Forbes and Brown… Everyone else just sat there and didn’t say a word. The only one who even tried to defend me was Gowan, but they just steamrolled him. It felt for a few minutes like I was really going to be fired, and I just sort of lost it when I realized I’d have to leave here…leave you.” She looked up at Jamie with a sad smile. “The thought of losing you…” 

Jamie reached across the table, taking her hand and giving it a little squeeze. 

“Dinna be afraid. There’s the two of us now.” 

They ate in tentative silence, neither wanting to break the fragile spell that had engulfed them both since Jamie burst into the committee room. 

“What will happen to Dougal?” Claire finally asked before wiping her lips with a napkin. 

“Dinna ken. He’s considered faculty, and he does have tenure, so it’s difficult to outright fire him. Mebbe a demotion?” 

“Hmmm…” 

“Wiley and Fitzroy rotate off the board in January, so ye willna have to worry about them much longer,” Jamie added. 

“Good to know.” 

He stood up and put the dishes in the sink before turning back to Claire. 

“Not much to be done with the committee itself since they were acting on a filed grievance, but the ones that are up for tenure next year? Ye can bet that I’ll speak up against them. You should too. They treated ye terribly, especially Bain. I saw him on the monitor in Colum’s office.”

“He really did. With him, it felt weirdly personal. I can’t really explain why, but he despises me. I remember how he looked at me when we were at the Samhain service.” Claire rinsed out the empty containers and put them in the recycling bin. “He was with the protesters. I think he would have gladly burnt me at the stake if he thought he could get away with it.” 

Jamie chuckled. “Dinna fash. If he tried, I’d ha’ been right there defendin’ ye, sword in hand. The first man to harm ye’d be the first man down.” He opened his arms, and kissed Claire’s curls as she stepped into his embrace. 

“My own personal Highland warrior—I could get used to that. I really do love you, James Fraser,” she crooned into his sternum. “I was planning on telling you at the cabin. I was so afraid you wouldn’t feel the same, but Geillis talked me into risking it.” 

She could feel his smile blooming as he leaned down to kiss her neck. “Ye might no’ believe it, but I was planning the exact same thing…to tell ye at the cabin. I was scairt that ye’d run from me if ye thought I was moving too fast and said it too soon.” 

They held each other tight, swaying slightly back and forth for a minute. 

“We really are a couple of daft numpties...”

“Ridiculous human beings...” 

“Aye. I suppose we deserve each other then…” 

“I suppose we do.”

Reaching down, Jamie lifted Claire up by her thighs as she wrapped her legs around his waist and he carried her back to the bedroom. He set her down gently and she slipped off her robe as he kicked off his sweatpants before sitting down on the edge of the bed. Claire stepped in between his thighs as he wrapped his arms around her waist, pressing a kiss between her breasts. 

Scooting back onto the bed, he quickly propped up several pillows and leaned back against them as Claire straddled his thighs. He reached up and ran his fingers through her curls. 

" _M_ _o nighean donn_ … it means my brown-haired lass.” 

Claire smiled. “You’ve said a lot more than ‘brown-haired lass’ to me.” 

“I have. I’ve been telling ye how much I love ye. Things that felt too risky to tell ye at the time. Sayin’ it in Gaelic felt easier.” 

“Hmm…how long?”

He stroked one large hand gently over her thigh while the other traced the line of her eyebrow, down her cheek and along her jaw. 

“It hit me hard at Homecoming. Looking back, I realized that I wanted ye from the moment Geillis introduced us at orientation, and I loved ye when ye cried in my arms at the distillery. But Homecoming was when I admitted it to myself.”

“I wasn’t far behind you…maybe a week or two. I told Geillis, but I couldn’t quite tell you.” She threaded her fingers through his, and he brought them to his lips and kissed them one by one. 

“Are ye okay with it now? I ken it was no’ easy after yer divorce, and I dinna want to rush things before ye’re ready.”

She looked into his eyes, their azure depths holding her gaze tenderly in the flickering candlelight. 

“I am. I’ve spent this entire semester reminding myself that you’re not him. That I can trust you.” 

One corner of his mouth lifted into a tiny half-smile. “Ye can. I don’t completely understand what it is between us, Claire, but it’s different. I love ye, but ‘love’ seems like such a small word…it canna capture everything I feel. It’s like ye hold my soul in the palm of yer hand.” 

“As you hold mine…” 

“Aye.” He took a breath, hesitating. “For the longest time, I thought God was punishing me, that I’d never find someone…”

“For what?” She reached up, tenderly stroking his hair. 

“Och, nothin’. It doesna matter anymore. We found each other.” He stretched his head up, catching her lips and pulling her into a deep, thorough kiss. “I need ye, Claire…”

Jamie brought his hands down, positioning them on her hips. Glancing down at his cock, she realized how ready he was, hard against her thigh. She grasped his shaft, pumped a couple times, then moved to position him. 

Both inhaled sharply as she sunk down slowly and began to rock back and forth, his hands on her hips setting the gentle rhythm as their eyes locked—azure and amber. It was powerful —primal and transcendent at the same time, an alchemy that neither understood, transmuting physical sensation into a oneness somehow greater than the sum of the two. 

They moved, synchronous, as Claire’s desire gradually built then suddenly flared hotter, like smoldering embers given new fuel. Moving faster now, Jamie reached down with his hand, stroking exactly _there_ , over and over until she gasped and cried out his name. Letting go, he grabbed her hips again, moving her harder and faster, chasing his own need. A minute later, he followed her into the sweetest oblivion as she watched, her eyes still locked with his. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As I said yesterday, each college has some sort of whistleblower/grievance procedure that usually isn't this dramatic, but... it's OL so we need a wee bit of drama, don't we?? Just a wee bit?


	36. A Wee Problem: December 8, 2020

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Claire consults Geillis about a Christmas dilemma.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much, dear readers, for all your enthusiasm about my take on the witch trial in the last chapter! This Friday, you'll get another modern take on a classic OL scene. 
> 
> I also want to let you know that this Saturday, December 12, as part of the 12 Days of Outlander Ficmas (#12DaysOLFicmas), I'll be posting my contribution to this collaborative effort for your holiday enjoyment: Adso and Rollo: A Christmas Story. I promise you that it's the fluffiest fluff that ever fluffed in a fic, starring two of our favorite furry characters, and will bring a smile to your face. Guaranteed. Watch for it, as well as the other fics that will follow from other writers leading up to Christmas Eve.

[ ](https://ibb.co/5rH1kGy)  
  


Mrs. Fitz’s Coffee Shop 3:30 PM

“I canna believe they just railroaded ye like that!” Geillis gaped at Claire. “And Dougal was behind it? Un-fucking-believable.”

“Apparently so,” Claire mused, sipping her coffee. “I still can’t quite believe it myself. So much for my delusion that Leoch was a warm, friendly place to work.”

“Och, it’s not so awful. He’s a bad apple. Most people are no’ like that. I heard a rumor that they’re goin’ to demote him. He’ll no’ be athletic director anymore. Just a coach. But no matter—from what I hear, somethin’ else happened at that meeting, aye? A certain wee ginger snack declared his feelings? I heard he was quite dramatic about it.” Geillis raised both eyebrows, then pursed her lips into a snarky grin. 

Claire blushed. “He did.” A smile spread over her face, and she felt a warm glow spreading through her chest. “He really did.” She ran her finger around the rim of her coffee cup, replaying the scene in her mind. 

“I hate to say I told ye so, but I really did tell ye so, ye sweet daft thing!” Geillis let out a barely contained laugh. “Ye’ve got him in quite a state! No one I’ve talked to has ever seen him like this. He’s positively over the moon for ye. It’s been plain as day since Homecoming to anyone with eyes.” 

“And just how many people have you talked to?” Claire’s jaw dropped.

“Och, a few.” Geillis waved her hand dismissively. “People talk to me. It’s the nature of the job.”

They both took a sip of coffee, and Geillis leaned back in her chair.

“So, what else is on yer mind? I can tell there’s something bothering ye.”

Claire took a deep breath and chuckled. “You’re not wrong there. You know we’re leaving for the cabin next week…”

“Aye, the Adirondack Love Shack. Merry Christmas! Santa brought ye a six foot four, highly intelligent, extremely fit Scotsman. Ye must have been a verra good girl, Claire.” 

“Well, I don’t know what to give him for Christmas!” Claire ignored the comment and gave a pained look in her friend’s direction. “I’m sure we’ll exchange gifts, and I have absolutely no idea what I should get him. A gift has all sorts of messages and baggage attached to it. It’s more than just something to open on Christmas morning. I don’t want to fuck this up, Geillis.”

“Och, jus’ make a trip to Madame Jeanne’s and stick a bow on yer head. Ye’ll be fine.” 

“Bloody hell, Geillis, I’m serious!” Claire pleaded. “I want it to be special. Everything is so perfect right now. I’m afraid the other shoe will drop. I’m not used to this! I can’t fuck this up! I just can’t!”

Geillis reached out her hand, placing it on Claire’s. “It’s okay, hen. I didna mean to make light o’ yer feelings.”

Claire nodded appreciatively, her mouth drawn into a tight awkward-looking smile. 

“So what message are ye tryin’ to send wi’ yer gift? That’s the question. A subscription to the whisky-of-the-month club sends an entirely different message than diamond cuff links, ye ken.” Geillis took a bite of her scone, leaving Claire to ponder the question.

“I guess I’d want it to say that I believe in him. That I believe in us.”

“Well, then,” Geillis nodded, “that’s a start. I’d say poke around online a wee bit while ye hold that thought in yer mind. See what comes to ye. But definitely make a trip to Madame Jeanne’s too.” She winked. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In a non-pandemic world, colleges would be having finals right now. Students would be stressing, along with their faculty. Everyone would be eager to be done with the semester and head home on break. Winter break in the US runs anywhere from 3-6 weeks, varying with the individual school's calendar. Often, faculty might work at home over break, prepping new courses, hopping in and out of their offices, attending the occasional meeting, but I think Jamie and Claire dinna want to be bothered with actual work on their holiday, do you?


	37. Holiday Party: December 11, 2020

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jamie and Claire attend Colum's annual holiday party. Shenanigans ensue.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you as always to my wonderful readers. I appreciate each and every one of you, whether you comment or not. 
> 
> A reminder that TOMORROW (December 12) I'll be the first writer posting for 12 Days of Outlander Ficmas ( #12DaysOLFicmas ), a collaboration of a bunch of us crazy fic writers who got together to give you something special for your 2020 holidays. My offering is something completely different than this, but hopefully just as enjoyable. Adso and Rollo: A Christmas Story is the fluff you need to get you through the 2020 holiday season. Watch for it, along with the other fics that will post daily from tomorrow until Christmas Eve. 
> 
> Thank you always to my beta for this chapter, Danielle (aka SmashingTeacups), eternal lover of the Oxford comma, and the best beta a girl could imagine.

[ ](https://ibb.co/YdLsjWh)

The annual holiday party at the president’s house was a tradition at Leoch College. Faculty, high level administration and board members all made it a point to be there every year to celebrate the end of the fall semester and to enjoy some holiday cheer. The house itself was an exquisitely maintained Gilded Age mansion, huge and homey at the same time—perfect for the entertaining expected of the college president. The first floor was the public space, and today the large dining/ballroom was all decked out with a dozen Christmas trees, an appetizer buffet, and an open bar. 

Jamie and Claire arrived promptly at seven, dressed in holiday finery. They handed their coats to an attendant who hung them in the cavernous closet near the main entrance, then meandered their way through the buffet and into the bustle of merrymakers. Jamie made the rounds, falling easily into conversation with whoever happened across his path, whisky in hand. 

Claire, however, was feeling awkward and uncomfortable in spite of the many friendly greetings and compliments on her dress. Only a week ago, she had sat alone in that conference room, facing down the committee that threatened to fire her. Now, she was expected to make conversation with many of these same people? She knew that Jamie would handle things quietly, making discreet recommendations to the tenure committee about Bain and his sycophants. In spite of the fact that it had yet to be formally announced, it was an open secret on campus that he would succeed Colum for the presidency, and as a result, people were suddenly more deferential and extremely friendly. Claire found it all a little hard to stomach, and having had enough of small talk, she took her glass of wine and ducked into a small empty room away from the crowd. Unfortunately the room had no door to close, so she stepped off to the side, out of view, and sat down on a small couch to sip her wine in peace. 

Leaning her head back on the couch and closing her eyes, she didn’t hear him when he stepped into the room. 

“Dr. Beauchamp? May I have a word?” 

Her eyes flew open, and she looked up to see Phil Wiley standing in the doorway. Before she could respond, he had moved across the room and sat down on the couch next to her.

“I want to apologize for all the unpleasantness last week.” His voice was smooth and syrupy. “I tried to talk Dougal out of pressing the grievances, but he was having none of it. You know how he is. Stubborn and reckless. He isn’t here tonight. I suspect he didn’t want to show his face.” 

“Thank you for the apology,” Claire responded curtly. 

“Of course. These things can be so unfair. That’s why I came to the meeting—to support you.”

“Well, I—” 

“Do you know how absolutely exquisite you look tonight? Red is definitely your color.” He reached up, tracing the lace of her sleeve with his fingers.

“Mr. Wiley, I don’t think—” 

He placed his hand on her thigh and leaned in closer. 

“Get your hands off of me!” Claire snarled at him, trying to keep her voice down.

Just then, Jamie stepped into the room, his face set like stone.

“Is everything okay here?”

“Ah. Fraser,” Phil replied, schooling his features back into formal politeness. “I was just leaving. Merry Christmas to you.” He stood up and took two steps toward the door. Jamie stepped in front of him, blocking his path. He was considerably taller than Wiley, and took a step closer, emphasizing the difference in height.

“Never. Touch. Her. Again.” Jamie articulated every word, his voice ice cold. Wiley quickly stepped around him and was back out in the hallway. As soon as he was gone, Jamie stepped into the room, opening his arms for Claire, who immediately stepped into his embrace. “Are ye okay, Sassenach? He didna have a chance to hurt ye?”

“No,” she breathed into his chest, “he didn’t.”

“Do ye want to leave?”

“No. I don’t.” She pulled away from Jamie’s arms, resolute. She could smell the whisky on his breath, and wondered how many he’d had so far. Looking him in the eye, she added, “Why should we leave when he’s the one who’s in the wrong? And don’t you want to participate in the pub trivia match? You said you look forward to it every year.” 

“Aye, I did, if ye’re okay with it.” He gently stroked his fingers up and down her back. 

“I’m fine. I want to see you compete.” She smiled at him, then taking him by the hand, walked out of the room. 

A large group was gathering in the dining room for the annual trivia contest, pitting faculty against each other, as well as anyone else who chose to compete. Colum stood at a podium, addressing the assembled crowd. 

“Ah, here he is, our returning champion from last year: Dr. James Fraser!”

Everyone clapped enthusiastically. It was clear that the party was shifting into a more relaxed phase, the early formality fading as the guests consumed more of the rather strong eggnog, as well as frequenting the open bar. Jamie took a bow and waved his hand, smiling. 

“Anyone else care to join in to challenge this formidable intellect?” Colum added, gesturing toward Jamie. 

“I’d like nothing better,” Phil Wiley interjected, a smirk curling on his lips. “I’m a champion myself. 2019 Pub Trivia Grandmaster at the Caledonia, Upper East Side. Little town called New York City.” He had donned an elf hat and raised his hands, accepting the applause of the group as he moved to the front of the room. 

The guests all cheered for this apparent clash of champions, completely oblivious to the scene that had taken place moments earlier. Jamie took a swig of his whisky before picking up another from the bar, then stepped forward, his eyes trained on Wiley, meeting his smirk with one of his own. 

“Bring it on,” Jamie retorted, his voice low. 

The game began, and after a few minutes, contestants were dropping like flies. Claire spotted Geillis across the room wearing a Santa hat, and went over to greet her friend. 

“Yer ginger snack seems a wee bit fierce tonight,” she observed. “Everything okay?”

“It’s fine,” Claire replied, pausing to take a breath before continuing, “I had an unpleasant encounter with Wiley that Jamie interrupted and now he’s out for vengeance.”

“Ye can tell me about that later,” Geillis replied, giving Claire a quick up and down glance before changing the subject. “Wiley’s no’ stupid, but he doesna know what he’s up against. Jamie’s a Mensan wi’ a memory like I’ve never seen in a mere mortal. Ye ken how many languages he speaks.” 

“He’s a what?”

“A Mensan. Ye know…Mensa? The high-IQ society? Jamie’s a member. He even ran the trivia championship at their national AG— Annual Gathering—a few years back.” 

“I had no idea.” Claire gawked at Geillis, then at Jamie, who was calmly perched on a stool in the front of the room, sipping a whisky while another person answered a question. “He’s never told me.” 

“Well, he’s no’ one to brag. Verra modest, yer wee man there.”

“How did you know then?”

“I’m one too, though I sometimes think there must have been a mix-up in the test scores when they let me in,” she commented with a laugh. “I’ve seen him at regional gatherings and local get-togethers over the years.”

The two friends stood together watching the match as one professor after another was eliminated, eventually leaving Jamie standing alone against Wiley. Colum continued with the back and forth questions, each answering in turn. 

“The next round will be science questions—Jamie, what radioactive isotopes persist to this day at the site of the Chernobyl nuclear disaster? There are two. Either one would be counted as a correct answer, and we only need the name of the element, not the isotope number.” 

Jamie stroked his scruff for a moment, staring at the ceiling. “Those would be Strontium-90 and Cesium-137.” 

“Correct on both. Phil, regarding the basis for the technique of gene editing, what does the acronym CRISPR stand for?” 

“Oh, Colum. You’re slacking. Too easy. Clustered Regularly Interspaced Short Palindromic Repeats. Now somebody bring me another beer.” Phil glanced over to where Claire and Geillis were standing, gesturing in their direction. “Would one of you ladies bring me a beer?”

“Get yer own beer, ye lazy Christmas elf,” Geillis joked back, diffusing the tension and drawing a laugh from the onlookers. 

“Next question—Jamie, name the scientist who, in 1915, proposed the theory that would become modern-day plate tectonics.” 

Without a moment’s hesitation, Jamie answered, “That would be the German scientist Alfred Wegener, who proposed the idea of continental drift.” 

“Correct! Phil, what is the common name for _Solidago virgaurea_ , a plant used by local Native peoples to treat upper respiratory inflammation?” 

Phil hesitated, shifting on his seat. Jamie watched him out of the corner of his eye as he took another shot of whisky, and swapped his empty glass for a refilled one that a food service employee handed him. “What?” he goaded, raising an eyebrow. “Don’t ye know this one? I dinna have all night, and I ken these merry folk would rather be dancin’ than listenin’ to the likes of us.” He smiled and gestured toward the room full of people. 

“Yarrow,” Phil answered decisively, casting a glare in Jamie’s direction. 

“Wrong.” Colum turned to Jamie. “All right, Dr. James Fraser…you can end this right now if you answer the question correctly. What is the common name for _Solidago virgaurea_ , a plant used by local Native peoples to treat upper respiratory inflammation?”

Jamie looked directly at Claire, catching her eye with his glance. She returned the tiniest of smiles, knowing the outcome already. They had talked about this exact plant the other day, in the context of discussing some student research, laughing together when Jamie recited the Latin names with an exaggerated Italian accent. 

“Goldenrod,” he answered softly at first, still holding Claire’s eyes, then repeated it again louder for the group. “It’s goldenrod.” 

“We have a champion!” Colum exclaimed. “Congratulations to defending and newly reigning champion of the 66th annual holiday trivia match, Dr. Jamie Fraser! And congratulations to his worthy opponent and runner-up, representing the Board of Trustees, Phil Wiley!”

The room erupted into applause, with both men taking a bow before exchanging a tense handshake. Colum spoke up again, “For the rest of the evening, our DJ will be here, playing your holiday favorites for dancing. Enjoy, everyone, and Merry Christmas!” The DJ, who had set up in the corner, waved to the group, and the sounds of _Rocking Around the Christmas Tree_ filled the room. Jamie tossed back the last of his whisky, set his glass down, and strode across the room to Claire. 

“Congratulations,” Claire volunteered as Jamie swooped towards her.

“Thanks. Hi Geillis.” He nodded briefly in her direction before turning his attention to Claire. “Come wi’ me,” he instructed, grabbing her by the elbow and leading her out of the room into the hallway.

“Where are we going?” Claire asked, a little disconcerted by his abrupt behavior. “You’re drunk.”

Jamie cast a glance around the empty space. The dancing was just getting started, and there was no one to be seen. Putting his arm around Claire’s waist, he quickly maneuvered her to the front entryway, where he opened the coat closet door and quickly stepped in, pulling her with him. Immediately, his large hands were on her, roaming up and down her back, squeezing her arse as he kissed behind her ear. 

“I must have ye…now. I canna wait.” 

The “closet” was more like a small room, meant to hold dozens of coats, and dimly illuminated by a small light on the ceiling that had been left on accidentally. Jamie pulled her toward the back of the room, shoving aside the coats on hangers as he went, then spun her around against the back wall, shielding her from view should anyone open the door. 

As he pulled her into a deep kiss, his tongue dueling with hers, she could taste the whisky on his breath. Claire was sober, having only consumed a single glass of wine, but the heat of Jamie’s hands, now cupping her breast through the lace fabric of her party dress, was intoxicating in its own way. Over and over, he murmured in her ear as he went.

“I must have ye, Claire. Ye’re mine—please…” 

“Yes, I’m yours,” she responded, her voice breathy with her own growing need. “Take me.”

Jamie quickly rucked up her short dress and reached down, pushing aside the flimsy thong, and began to stroke her in a steady rhythm. Feeling emboldened herself, Claire reached down and palmed his growing thickness through the fabric of his kilt before reaching under to find him already bared for her. She shoved aside the fabric and hitched her leg around his waist as Jamie brought a hand to her arse, supporting her and keeping her balanced. Taking him firmly in hand, she guided him into her with a muffled groan. She threw her head back, gasping as he began to piston into her while planting kisses along her neck. 

“Ye’re mine, _mo nighean donn_ ,” he growled into her ear. “Mine!”

“Yours…” 

“Look down, Claire,” he commanded, his voice raspy, the whisky on his breath heavy in the air between them. “Watch while I take ye.”

Claire lowered her gaze. With the fabric of his kilt pushed out of the way she could see him pounding into her flesh, and a low, feral moan escaped her lips. Desperate with desire, she reached around with both hands and grabbed his arse, pushing him deeper into her again and again as she rocked her hips in rhythm with his relentless pace. 

It didn’t take long before the wave broke over them both, and they were left gasping. As Claire lowered her leg, her knees buckled, causing Jamie to catch her around her waist. The fabric of dress and kilt fell back between them, and they stood wrapped in each other’s arms, catching their breath, soaking in the afterglow. 

“We should go.” 

“Aye.” 

“I’m driving. You’re in no fit condition to be behind the wheel.”

“Aye.” 

  
  


*****

  
  


Back at her apartment, Claire peeled off the fancy dress and wrapped herself in her comfortable robe before returning to help Jamie, who was perched on the edge of her bed, swaying slightly and staring at the floor. She smiled at him as she would a sleepy child before kneeling to help pull off his boots. She continued to undress him gently, folding his kilt and hanging up his jacket. 

“I’m sorry,” he mumbled after several minutes of silence. 

“Whatever for?” 

“Fer taking ye that way, like a rutting beast.” He sighed. “Ye deserve better, Claire.”

She held his face in her hands, leaning down to kiss him deeply. “I rather enjoyed your inner beast. No apologies needed.” 

“When I saw ye there, wi’ Wiley, I…” He ran his hands down her torso, resting them on her hips. “I felt rage toward the man. I wanted to tear him to pieces wi’ my bare hands for daring to touch ye like that. I tried to humiliate him instead.”

“I think you did a pretty good job of taking him down a notch or two,” Claire laughed. “I don’t think Colum would have appreciated all the blood on the carpet if you’d torn him to pieces. That’s a messy business.” 

“Well, it’s over now. Ye’re sure ye’re okay? I didna mean to be so rough wi’ ye.” He looked up at her, eyes pleading. 

“That was the best part.” She smiled down at him, then climbed over him into the bed. 

Contented, they curled up together, wrapped in each other’s arms. Suddenly remembering what Geillis had told her, she turned to Jamie and propped herself on her elbow. 

“Geillis told me you’re in Mensa.”

“Aye.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Och, I would have eventually. It’s no’ a big deal. Besides, I think they mixed up the test scores when they let me in.”

“Not a chance, Dr. Fraser. Not a chance…” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've always resisted the tendency of some in the fandom to treat Jamie as a bit of a himbo, sweet but not too bright. In this fic, as in canon, he is wicked smart, fluent in multiple languages and a natural leader. I decided to make him a Mensan to emphasize an aspect of his character that tends to get overshadowed by his looks and prowess in the bedroom (not that there's anything wrong with his looks or prowess in the bedroom!!) Mensa is a real organization, both internationally and in the US, mostly functioning as a social club. And before anyone says it, yes testing is problematic, but my only point here is to emphasize that First Year AU Jamie is a verra bright lad. 
> 
> I hope you enjoyed my modern take on the iconic stable scene, which (in my opinion) was rushed and awkwardly written in Season 5. It's one of those scenes that book readers love, and it was fun to bring it to life here. Since I couldn't exactly have Jamie gambling for serious stakes or physically threatening Wiley as he did in the book/show, I thought a trivia match (which is totally something that nerdy academics would do) might be the solution for him to get a wee bit of revenge. 
> 
> Note for non-US readers: It isn't unusual for the president of a small college like Leoch to host a holiday party. In real life, it probably wouldn't be as fancy or involve as much drinking, but we had to have a drunk Jamie for this scene, didn't we? 
> 
> Next week, we're off to the cabin!! Whoo-hoo!!


	38. Cabin Run: December 14, 2020

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jamie makes one last run to the cabin to get ready for Claire's arrival.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please take a moment and read this note: 
> 
> After posting the last chapter, I had my very first troll comments on this fic, two people posting their hate of Sam. I was stunned, and responded to it as diplomatically as I could, but in hindsight I realized that was a mistake after I discovered that I could simply delete the comments, which I then did. Several of you spoke up in support of Sam, and those comments, since they were part of the original thread, were deleted too (but thank you to those who "stand with Sam"). I am a fan of both Sam and Caitriona, an I will not tolerate hate towards either of them, or any cast member, writer or DG herself. From now on, any such comments will be immediately deleted. Hate has no home here.
> 
> On another note, this chapter is un-betaed, so any and all errors are my own.

[ ](https://ibb.co/qd1J80d)

11 AM

He could hardly believe it. Not only had she declared her love for him, but they would get to spend the entire break together—alone. His fingers tapped out a rhythm against his thigh as he drove the last few miles to the cabin, one hand on the steering wheel, his Christmas playlist blasting. Snow was expected later in the day, and he wanted to finish up quickly and get back to Leoch before it hit. He had picked up a load of groceries in town, as well as a freshly cut tree from a local farm. He wasn’t sure about the rules for cutting trees in the wilderness, and he didn’t want to cut anything close to the cabin, so he decided instead that a tree farm was the way to go. He’d have it up and strung with lights today, then he and Claire could finish putting on the ornaments together when they arrived on Wednesday. 

He pulled into the driveway and hauled the groceries inside. Luckily, things still looked spotless from his previous run. After unloading the fresh food into the fridge, he found himself staring at the tree still strapped to the roof of his SUV. There just wasn’t an easy way to do this he realized, other than wrestle the beast off of the roof, trying not to break any branches, and haul it in, so with an incessant string of Gaelic curses falling from his lips, that’s exactly what he did. 

The tree was sprawled out on the floor next to him, a trail of pine needles in its wake, when he realized one tiny problem. He had no tree stand. The people at the tree farm told him to water it daily, but his Claire-soaked mind didn’t quite grasp exactly what that would entail in practice. He looked around the cabin, in closets and under sinks, eventually settling on the possibility of a bucket.

It didn’t take long for him to realize that this was a bad idea. Not only did the tree lean pitifully when he tried it out, but the bucket itself was an old metal thing, ugly and rusty. It just wouldn’t do for the perfect Christmas he had envisioned. He sighed. There was nothing to be done but to head back into town to the big box store and pick up a stand. 

After twenty minutes bouncing around on the rough dirt roads, his mind spinning out fantasies of Claire in the four-poster bed lit only with twinkle lights, he noticed that the low pressure light on the dash had turned on. _Ifrinn_. There was nowhere to pull over as such, but the roads were so remote that it didn’t matter. He simply stopped where he was and got out to inspect the tires. Sure enough, the left rear was noticeably low and getting lower by the second. He must have driven over something sharp—a stray bit of metal perhaps. He rubbed his hands together, blowing on them to warm them. Naturally, it had started to snow a few minutes before. He cast a glance at the clouds, grumbling in Gaelic. Resigned to his fate, he set to work, and a half hour later, he was back on the road.

Three hours after _that_ , he stood in the cabin triumphant—a bit disheveled, with some pine sap stuck to his shirt and a wee bit more in his hair, but triumphant nonetheless. The tree was in its stand, wrapped in lights. He vacuumed up the stray needles then dusted a little before bringing in some wood from the sheltered woodpile outside, placing it in the fireplace on top of some old scrunched up newspapers and small twigs, ready to light on Wednesday. The final detail was the mistletoe that he’d picked up at the tree farm. He hung it over the doorway, then standing in the middle of the living room, he went over his mental checklist, realizing that everything was as ready as it would ever be. He took a deep breath, locked the place up, and started back to Leoch. It would be dark soon, and he was eager to get off the back roads and onto the highway. The snow had picked up, not quite blizzard intensity, but enough to be annoying.

*****

In hindsight, he wasn’t sure if it was the Christmas music playlist he’d downloaded or daydreaming of Claire (more likely the latter) that distracted him, but as he trudged down the road, pulling his coat tighter around him, he realized that he couldn’t afford to be so lost in thought when he drove up with her on Wednesday. It happened amazingly fast. One minute he was driving along a wee bit too fast, humming to Mariah Carey (he’d always found that song annoying, but this year he was constantly singing along either in his head, or out loud when he was alone). The next minute he was swerving to avoid a deer that had suddenly darted out in front of him. He’d managed to avoid the deer, thankfully, but found himself with his brand new back tire in a muddy ditch, spinning like mad and going nowhere.

Of course there was no cell service this far out, so there was nothing to be done but either wait for someone to happen by, or to try to walk to the nearest main road. He shivered as he plodded along, angry with himself for his carelessness. Once again, his thoughts turned to her, but this time, at least he heard the pickup truck pull up behind him. He turned and waved, thankful that something finally went right.

It was 11 PM by the time he stepped out of the shower and flopped down on the bed, exhausted, but happy, with Mariah Carey’s voice still rattling around in his brain. His cell phone buzzed on the bedside table. 

_< <Finally got the last of my grades turned in.>>_  
_< <Congratulations, Sassenach! You survived your first semester!>>_  
_< <I’m relieved it’s finally over. Everything good to go for Wednesday?>>_  
_< <Absolutely. I’ll pick you up at 10? Is that okay?>>_  
_< <Perfect. I have a little last minute shopping to do tomorrow.>>_  
_< <Madame Jeanne’s?>>_  
_< <Maybe>>_  
_< <I love you>>_  
_< <I love you too>>_  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're leaving for the cabin on Wednesday!! I'm so excited. 
> 
> Murtagh's fictional cabin is located toward the southern end of Stillwater Reservoir in the Adirondacks. For weather reference when they're at the cabin, I'm using Old Forge, NY if you want to follow along. Today's forecast calls for it to start snowing within the hour, and really kick in by 5-6 PM, just as Jamie is leaving for home. I'll follow real-time weather as much as possible. Will they be snowed in?? Who knows? In any case, it's usually a good deal colder at the cabin than it is at Leoch (weather reference Syracuse, NY) Good thing they have each other to stay warm. 
> 
> Thanks for reading! If you don't already follow me on Twitter, you can find me at Newbie Becca @Avg_OL_fangirl


	39. Off to the Cabin: December 16, 2020

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jamie and Claire (finally!) depart for their holiday break at Murtagh's cabin in the Adirondacks.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to all readers for your kindness and support. It means the world to me. 
> 
> There's a really big snowstorm brewing, but thankfully, Jamie and Claire are ahead of it. It's plenty cold where they are! You can follow "their" weather by following Old Forge NY. 
> 
> Expect the long chapter for this week to drop on Friday, and then the next on Christmas Day. I'm taking next week off from wee midweek chapters, but dinna fash. There's plenty of cabin fun to come. 
> 
> This chapter is un-betaed, so any errors are mine alone.

[ ](https://ibb.co/fphZ7y9)

8:00 AM 

“Bloody hell,” Claire muttered under her breath in spite of the smile on her face. She was standing in her bedroom, staring at her open suitcase, clothing scattered all over the bed. What to take with her? They couldn’t possibly stay in bed the entire time, could they? She giggled to herself. Okay, jeans, the leggings that made her arse look good, a couple favorite sweaters, and the plaid flannel shirt he had left at her place last week. Her most recent purchases from her shopping run to Ithaca yesterday would obviously go. But the sweats? She usually wore old comfy sweats when she was alone in her apartment. In hindsight, she should have bought the super-soft lounge pants yesterday. At least they were cute. She sighed. Too late for another run now. No, she thought, she wasn’t quite ready for him to see her at her worst. She might go without makeup (well, maybe just a little mascara), and she would do her best to keep her hair under control, but she absolutely would _not_ let him witness ratty-sweatpants-with-old-t-shirt Claire. Yes to the purple silky robe. Yes to parka and boots. Absolute hard pass on all high heels, she laughed to herself. And no to ancient sweats.

She finished packing the clothes, shut the suitcase and hauled it to the front door. Walking into the bathroom, she looked into the mirror. _Not great, Beauchamp_ , she thought. She’d felt a tangle of emotion the past few days—excited about the thought of leaving for the cabin, nervous at the thought of being alone with him for weeks, and unexpectedly self-conscious to the point that she’d barely slept. The dark circles under her eyes were evidence of that. She made a mental note to pack some concealer and eye cream for puffiness. 

_“You're not getting any younger, Claire.”_

Frank’s voice bubbled up in her mind, unwelcome and unbidden, as she stepped into the shower. She paused, closing her eyes. _No_ , she thought. _Just no_.

“Fuck you, Frank,” she said out loud to the empty room, and turned on the water. 

  
*****

10:15 AM 

Jamie loaded up the last of her things, along with the groceries for breakfast that she’d bought, and slammed the door shut. Scooping Claire up into a big bear hug, he literally lifted her off her feet, swinging her slightly as he kissed her cheek.

“I still canna quite believe it.” He nuzzled into her neck, and she could have sworn she felt a bit of moisture from the corner of his eye. “Three weeks alone with the woman I love, who loves me back. God, I’m the luckiest man on earth, Sassenach.” He put her down gently, beaming as he did.

“Believe it. I am thoroughly besotted with you, James Fraser.” She laughed a bit, then gently looked into his eyes. “I love you, Jamie.”

He pressed her into a brief kiss. “Let’s get moving. I dinna think ye want to spend the entire break standing here freezing yer arse off in a parking lot.” 

“Too right.” 

  
*****

Three hours later…

They stood in the doorway as Jamie turned the key, not yet opening the door, their breath forming miniature clouds in the frigid air.

“Look up, Sassenach.” She followed suit, seeing the mistletoe hanging directly overhead, then reached her arms up to wrap around his neck, pulling him into a deep kiss, their cold lips warming immediately.

“Who am I to argue with tradition?” She quirked an eyebrow at him, and he turned the doorknob and opened the door. 

He had left the heat turned up two days ago, not wanting to bring her into a cold room. Kicking off his boots by the door, he quickly padded over and plugged in the tree lights still wearing his coat.

“I didna put on the ornaments yet. I thought we might do that together.” Jamie commented, a little sheepish.

She stepped into the cabin, shutting the door behind her, and her jaw dropped. The place was gorgeous—a cozy, rustic paradise of wood and stone, made holiday-perfect with swags of greenery on the mantle, highlighted with twinkle lights, and the tree standing tall off to the side. There were two stockings hung by the fireplace, side by side, with _Jamie_ and _Claire_ written on them. He had clearly been here before. It was spotless, without a speck of dust on the furniture, and the warmth of the room contrasted sharply with the frosty atmosphere outside.

“Jamie, oh my God, this is amazing!” she gushed, unable to contain her shock. “You did all this for me?”

“Ye like it?” 

She nodded, her mouth still agape.

“It’s…it’s perfect.” She couldn’t find the right words to convey her surprise. He had obviously put in a lot of time and effort, and the thought of it warmed her heart. Never in her life had anyone gone to such trouble for her alone. She looked up at Jamie, finding him grinning from ear to ear.

“Come inside and kick off yer boots; I’ll give ye the grand tour. It’s a wee bit chilly near the door.”

He took her coat and hung it up as she slipped out of her boots. He showed her the already stocked kitchen and the dining nook with the view of the lake, then walking her upstairs he noted the bathroom and spare room before leading her to the bedroom. The massive four poster bed dominated the room, wrapped up with even more twinkle lights that Jamie just then plugged in. She watched as he bent over to reach the outlet, her eyes fixed on the curve of his arse, and a delicious idea formed in her mind, resulting in a flood of heated desire that washed over her like a rogue wave.

Standing up again, he spoke with a smile. “There ye have it. It’s no’ a mansion, but I think it’ll do. How about I go get yer luggage and ye can settle in.”

Staring directly into his eyes, she spoke. “No. You’re not going anywhere.”

He raised both eyebrows, and she went on.

“I must have you now…I can’t wait.” She stepped closer to him, smiling as she pushed him down with the palm of her hand to sit on the edge of the bed. “You’re _mine._ ” He smirked in that insanely sexy way that drove her mad and she could see by his expression that he recalled the other night at Colum’s party.

They quickly undressed, tossing clothing to the floor in a flurry of need. Divested of their clothing, she pushed him down onto the bed, then rolled him onto his back and quickly straddled him.

“You’re mine, James Fraser.” She crooned. _“Mine.”_

“Yours.”

“Look down, Jamie…” She took hold of him firmly, positioned him, and sunk down onto him, letting out a moan as she did. “Watch as I take you.” She leaned back slightly, offering him a better view as she raised and lowered her hips. He reached around, grabbing her arse, moving with her frantically, pushing himself deeper into her with every desperate stroke. She reached down and touched herself where she needed it most, knowing that it wouldn’t take long with the frenzied pace they set. Sure enough, moments later she broke, loudly calling out his name. He followed close on her heels, spurting ribbons of liquid heat deep into her core. She collapsed onto him, and rolled on her side.

Reaching up, he pushed an errant curl away from her face, his eyes locked on hers, his lopsided smile melting her heart.

_“Christ,_ I love you, Claire…” 


	40. Like Horses: December 18, 2020

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This, my lovelies, is essentially nothing but fluff and smut, because it's the holiday season and God knows in 2020 we all deserve it. Your regularly scheduled plot will resume soon, with a new spring semester story arc beginning in January.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wishing all my readers the happiest of holiday seasons, and the merriest of Christmases. I will be back with a Christmas Day chapter (with Jamie and Claire opening their gifts- you'll get to find out what they chose for each other) and then we'll be back to the usual postings. 
> 
> A huge thank you to my beta Danielle (aka SmashingTeacups) for this chapter and for making sure that the lingerie is on point. Everything is better with her input. If you aren't reading her fic, Atonement, what are you even doing with your life?

The first couple days at the cabin had gone off without a hitch, and Claire was considerably less nervous than she had been when they’d first arrived. The pleasant ache between her legs testified to the very enjoyable time they’d had so far. 

Hours into an afternoon spent reading, curled up by the fire, Jamie finally put down his book, stood up and stretched. “Ye want anything, Sassenach? I was thinking of a cup of tea.” 

“Sounds perfect,” Claire answered, smiling up at him. “I know my British passport will probably be revoked for this, but can I have a Lemon Zinger with a shot of honey?”

“Yer secret is safe wi’ me.”

A few minutes later, he returned, steaming mugs in hand. 

“So, what are ye reading?” 

“At the moment, I’m reading a rough draft manuscript of a romance novel written by a friend of mine, _Always You_. It’s unusual, but I rather like it.” She shifted in her seat, rearranging her legs underneath her, then took a sip of tea. 

“A romance novel? I didna think ye’d be the type fer that.”

“Honestly, I didn’t used to think so either,” Claire laughed. “Frank used to put them down as trashy or silly, but that’s the patriarchy talking. I’ve realized that they can be empowering. They present women’s desire in a positive light, not something to be shamed as society often does.”

“I hadna thought of it that way, Sassenach,” he replied, “but I see yer point.” 

She beamed at him, then stared back at the fire, thoughtfully sipping her tea, amazed at how far she’d come, how much she’d grown in the years since her divorce. She felt proud of herself, blissful and completely content. 

Casting a glance back at Jamie, she saw that he was once again deeply absorbed in his book. She took another sip of her tea, smiling to herself, and went back to her own reading. 

*****

Claire stood in the bathroom, adjusting the bow tied over her cleavage, then smoothing out the sheer fabric that extended to her hips. She had decided to give Jamie this particular present a little early. She put the Santa hat on, trying not to crush her hair in the process, then gently brushed on a swish of shimmery powder on her shoulders and cleavage. It would look nice in the firelight, she thought. Stepping down the stairs, she saw Jamie already naked, laying out several blankets and pillows on the floor by the fire. He had turned off all the lamps, leaving only the fire itself for light, supplemented by a few candles. He looked up at her and gulped noticeably. That reaction alone was worth the trip to Ithaca, she thought. 

“Santa told me you’ve been a very good boy this year, James Fraser,” she teased, “so he sent you an early Christmas surprise.” 

His jaw dropped as she went a few more steps down.

“Would you like to unwrap your present?” 

“Aye,” he choked out, grinning wildly. “I canna wait to see what’s under that bow.” 

By now, she was in front of him, trailing a finger down the edge of his jawline. Pulling her into a deep kiss, he knocked off the Santa hat. He let go of her mouth, turning his attention to nibble on her ear. 

“Such a pretty package,” he murmured as his hands slithered down her torso over the sheer red fabric, eventually cupping her arse with a pleasant squeeze. 

“And all for you.” She traced the line from his navel to his cock with a finger, then followed it to the end of his erection, already bobbing gently with her touch. She kissed him again. 

“Mmmm…may I unwrap my gift?” 

She nodded, and he tugged at the wide red satin ribbon that was strategically tied across her chest, causing the bow to come undone. It fell apart completely with a last gentle tug of his finger, releasing Claire’s breasts from their decorative confinement. He stepped back, eyes wide, staring. 

Suddenly feeling self-conscious, Claire covered herself awkwardly. “Would you bloody well say something?” 

“ _Christ_ ,” he rasped, “Claire, ye’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.” 

He held her gaze as he stepped toward her again, then knelt down in front of her as he snagged the thin strings of the matching red thong with his fingers, pulling them down to her ankles.

She lifted one foot, then the other, and he tossed the flimsy scrap aside as he wrapped his arms around her waist and pressed a kiss to her stomach through the sheer fabric. She knelt down facing him on the blankets, noticing how the firelight danced on his skin, reflecting the flame of his hair. 

“I want you,” she breathed onto his collarbone, stroking her fingers through the hair on his chest and across his nipple, causing it to harden. “I want you inside me.” 

She lay back on the blankets, feeling the heat of the fire pleasantly warming her, and spread her legs. Jamie knelt back on his heels, then reached down to gently take hold of her thighs, scooting her bottom up onto his lap. Taking his cock in her hand, Claire stroked it over her entrance, already slick and eager. Teasing them both, she touched it lightly to her most sensitive place, gasping slightly as she did. She knew what she wanted—to feel him drive into her hard and deep, to fill and stretch her over and over until she screamed.

“Do it now, and don’t be gentle.” 

He entered her in one powerful stroke, hiking her bottom up a little higher as he did. Claire lifted her hips to match him as he rolled back and forth, over and over again. She could feel her breasts jiggling with every stroke, and ran her fingers over herself, enhancing the sensation. Opening her eyes, she found Jamie watching, his pupils blown wide with desire. He reached down to touch the place of her most desperate need, his thumb expertly stroking firmly up and down, slightly off center, exactly as she had shown him months ago. 

She felt her climax build, curling her toes; the sensation traveled up her legs, rolling through her nerve endings until it hit her like a wave, knocking her under, leaving her gasping for air as she emerged crying out his name. Jamie moved his hand away from her oversensitive flesh, and she could tell he was close. His eyes were closed, and he bit his lip, pumping furiously, ever faster. 

Finally, he shuddered as his release hit. “Oh God…oh Claire!”

After a moment, she slid down, and he slipped out, gasping for breath. They lay in silence, forehead to forehead, for several minutes. Existing. Breathing. Wrapped in the warmth of each other. 

*****

An hour later, they were sprawled out together in the giant claw-footed tub, Claire sitting between Jamie’s legs, leaning back on his chest, soaking in warm bubbly water and sipping whisky.

“This was a fantastic idea, Sassenach,” Jamie murmured. “I canna remember when I’ve been so relaxed.” 

“I’ll take credit for the bubbles, but I’ve got to say that the whisky really adds to the experience.” 

Between the warm water and the whisky, Claire’s mind was pleasantly muddled, and she almost didn’t catch what Jamie said next. 

“I have a story that’ll make ye laugh.”

“What? Do tell.”

He took another sip of the whisky. “Ye ken that I grew up on a farm. When I was a bairn, I’d often see the animals… well, _mating._ The bulk of my sex education came from them, ye ken. My parents were no’ ones to talk much about the subject, and I was too shy a lad to ever ask. So when I went off to university, I was no’ only a virgin, but a virgin who thought that ye only did it the back way…like horses, ye ken.” 

Claire laughed out loud, her amusement amplified by the whisky. “Oh, you poor thing! I can only imagine the lucky lass who had the task of trying to sort that out.” She kept giggling uncontrollably. “I’m sorry. That’s just…sweet.” 

“Aye, I was quite daft on the subject,” Jamie chuckled at himself. 

Claire took a swig of her whisky and twisted her torso around slightly. “Let’s do it.”

“What?”

“Let’s do it,” she snickered. “Like horses. I want to fulfill your adolescent fantasy.” She wiggled her arse against him, and felt him begin to harden. 

“Only if ye let me take ye wi’ my mouth first. I havena had ye that way since we got here, and I miss it.” 

“How can I not love a man who says such things?” she crooned as she stepped out of the tub and wrapped herself in a thick, fluffy towel. Jamie stepped out shortly after, dried off, and followed her into the bedroom. 

Sitting on the edge of the bed, she lay back and stretched luxuriously as Jamie knelt in front of her. He lifted her legs, positioning her thighs on his shoulders, and leaned in, pressing a kiss to her mound before gently parting her with his fingers. 

“ _Christ_ , I love the taste of ye,” he groaned. 

He set to work then, first mimicking her favorite motion with his tongue, then pressing his lips firmly against the nexus of her pleasure and gently sucking. Claire mewled, arching her back. He dipped his tongue into her for a moment, then quickly replaced it with two long fingers, as his tongue returned to the pattern he knew she liked best. Within minutes, she cried out, not worrying about how loud she was, cursing and groaning her ecstasy as she bucked her hips against him. 

Jamie rose up, wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, then leaned over, gently kissing each of her nipples and rolling off her to rest on his side. They lay in blissful silence for a minute as Claire caught her breath, her heart rate returning to normal. 

Opening an eye, she cast a cheeky grin his way, then got up onto all fours and wiggled her bottom. “Come on then…” 

Jamie positioned himself behind her, on his knees. “Can ye bear it if I’m a wee bit rough again?”

“God yes,” she moaned. “Take me hard.” She leaned forward, weight resting on her elbows. 

Jamie grabbed her hips and plunged into her without hesitation, groaning as he did. He took charge, forcefully moving her hips back and forth with his large hands, nearly coming out of her only to slam her back into him over and over again. As he did, Claire’s breasts moved with his rhythm, her nipples gently scraping across the sheets back and forth with every stroke. Her breathing grew heavy and she moaned and gasped with his aggressive thrusts.

“So deep… _God, Claire_ …” He let go with one hand and reached around, stroking her as she kept up the pace, thrust after thrust. It didn’t take long for her to come undone yet again at his touch, her walls clenching around him as she cried out his name. Jamie let go and continued pounding into her for a few more strokes. She knew he was spiraling when his rhythm became erratic, letting loose a string of Gaelic curses before he spilled into her, gasping for breath. 

As he slipped out of her, they both collapsed onto the bed, completely spent. Pulling her into his embrace, Jamie planted a kiss on her curls, then reached down and pulled the covers up over them both. Claire nestled into the place where his shoulder met his chest, the place she belonged. The place she fit perfectly. 

“I love ye, Claire,” he whispered.

“I love you too, Jamie.” 

The silence of the winter woods settled over them like a blanket, and they fell into a deep, blissful sleep. 

  
  


*****

Jamie awoke to the smell of bacon. He blinked at the light coming through the window, and sat up, stretching. As his feet hit the floor, Claire’s voice called up to him from downstairs. 

“Don’t you dare come down here. Get back into bed!”

Laughing, he called out a quick affirmative, relieved himself in the bathroom, then crawled back into the large rustic four-poster. He propped himself up on pillows as he heard Claire’s footsteps on the stairs. 

“I promised you breakfast in bed, and breakfast in bed you shall have,” Claire declared. “An almost-full Scottish fry-up. I couldn’t find black pudding to save my life. Even the mail order places were sold out for the holiday, and did you know that it’s illegal to import haggis? I had no idea. But we do have bacon and sausage, at least.”

“Aye, it’s a treat to have haggis when I visit my sister,” Jamie responded, already digging into the food on the tray Claire had placed before him. “I tried to sneak one back a few years ago, but security confiscated it. Didna even make it to customs, much less through it. Apparently, it looked verra suspicious on the X-ray.” 

“Hopefully this is close enough.” 

“It’s delicious, Sassenach,” Jamie replied, his mouth full. 

“Well, you need to keep up your strength,” she teased. “Last night…took a lot of energy, and I wouldn’t want you to be so weak that you collapse from hunger.” 

He grinned at her. 

“Och, no. We canna have that,” he chuckled, his fork setting to work on the eggs. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is a wee bit meta. Claire is reading a (completely original non-OL) manuscript of my own that I'm actually working on at the moment. We're friends, ye ken. 
> 
> Also, DG is famous for not wanting to label OL as romance, and has written a rather scathing meta-commentary of her own in one of the books (either DIA or Voyager-can't recall) when Claire is working at the hospital and she and Joe read a pirate romance. My own meta-commentary (through Claire) is my response to that. 
> 
> Anyhow, I hope you enjoyed the fluff and smut. There will be other things actually happening during their time at the cabin, but since I’ve had readers literally begging for cabin sex, I felt obligated to deliver.


	41. Christmas: December 25, 2020

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jamie and Claire exchange their Christmas gifts at the cabin.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wishing a very Merry Christmas to any of my readers who celebrate it. Wishing a happy holiday season to all. I'm so grateful to have all of you along for the ride with me in this crazy year. 
> 
> In case you missed it earlier, I invite you to check out my special Christmas gift to all of you: Adso and Rollo-A Christmas Story. You can find it here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27882990 (cut and paste into a browser window since I can't link from chapter notes). Or click my name and then my works. It is extremely fluffy. Don't say you weren't warned. 
> 
> Special thanks to my beta Danielle (aka SmashingTeacups) who is not only a beta, but also a friend. Every chapter that she goes over is better for her efforts. I am experimenting with semicolons thanks to her intervention, which is definitely out of my comfort zone of endless ellipses...

[ ](https://ibb.co/pzq7BkC)

9:00 AM

Claire crept down the stairs wrapped in her purple robe, trying desperately not to make any noise. She hadn’t had a chance to put the bottle of whisky in Jamie’s stocking before they went to bed last night, or to put her presents for him under the tree. She had snuck them all in together with the groceries, managing to stash the lot in the coat closet behind some cross country skis. Her task accomplished, she headed to the kitchen to start breakfast, a casserole that she had prepped the night before, together with some croissants, grapefruit, and of course coffee. Mentally thanking her past self for planning ahead, she popped it in the oven, set the table, and curled up in the living room to read until Jamie woke. 

An hour later, she heard a muffled thump from upstairs as Jamie’s feet hit the floor, followed by some noise from the bathroom as he brushed his teeth. She checked on the casserole, pleased to discover that it was ready.

“That smells fantastic, Sassenach. I’ll be right down!” 

“No need to rush. Take your time!” 

Claire quickly gave the table a once-over, then settled down with her coffee. Moments later, Jamie poked his head around the corner, a grin spreading over his face.

“One minute. I need to do something important. Stay there! Dinna move!” 

She heard the shuffling of boxes in the living room, and giggled to herself. It seemed she wasn’t the only one who hadn’t had a moment alone to put gifts under the tree. A minute later, Jamie joined her in the dining nook, a wide smile still on his face as he rubbed his large hands together. “So, what’s for breakfast? I worked up quite an appetite last night.” He raised an eyebrow in her direction, and bit his lip seductively.

Claire felt the blush spread to her ears as she recited the menu and the two sat down to their feast. She’d been with him for months. How was it that he could still do that to her? Casting a glance out the large windows that framed the dining nook, she tried to compose herself. 

“This view is amazing,” she observed.

“Aye, ‘tis. In the summer, when ye can open the windows, ye can hear the loons on the lake. Murtagh has a couple kayaks, but I dinna think ye want to venture out on the lake today, even if it wasn’t frozen solid.” Jamie set to work on devouring his breakfast, apparently oblivious to the effect he’d had on her a moment before. 

“Maybe we can come back in the summer.” She took a bite of the casserole, looking thoughtfully out at the frozen landscape.

“Aye.” 

A half hour later, well-fed and fully caffeinated, they cleaned up the dishes and made their way to the living room, where Jamie lit the fire. Both had realized from day one that they liked having it burning, even though the cabin had central heat. A wood fire felt homey. Comforting. Christmas-y. Claire sat on the couch, her legs curled beneath her, feeling blissful and content with her world. 

Standing up after the fire had caught, Jamie reached to take her stocking off the mantle and handed it to her. “Och, look here, Sassenach. Santa brought ye something.” He grinned. Claire’s mind immediately recalled Geillis’ comment about what Santa had brought her, and she giggled. Jamie looked at her quizzically as he handed her the stocking, and she reached inside to pull out a bottle of her favorite pear brandy. 

“Thank you, Santa Jamie,” she crooned, reaching up to give him a quick kiss, gently stroking a stray auburn curl that hung over the side of his face. 

“Ho, ho, ho…” 

“Your turn.” Grinning, Claire pointed to the other stocking, setting the pear brandy down on the coffee table. “Santa didn’t forget you.”

He feigned surprise as he pulled out the bottle of whisky, looking it over before his features turned more serious as he observed, “Santa has verra good taste.” 

Claire had been nervous about the presents she’d chosen for Jamie ever since she’d purchased them, and had spent several sleepless nights stewing over whether they were too much, not enough, or just not right. At this point, she knew it was too late to change anything, and realized that she might as well just get it over with, letting the chips fall where they may.

“Right.,” she inhaled sharply., “Shall we do presents?”

He nodded absentmindedly, his attention still on the whisky as she got up and retrieved two packages from under the tree—one large and flat, the other small. Handing him the small one first, she felt a lump grow in her throat as her palms suddenly turned to puddles. 

“This is for the next president of Leoch College. I know you’ll do a fantastic job, and I noticed one time that Colum had one, and I just thought it would be nice for you to have one too. If you don’t like it, I can return it for something else…or maybe it might not fit…” Claire was babbling and she knew it, but was so nervous that she couldn’t seem to stop. “I hope it’s not inappropriate, or too much…I just wanted to…” 

“Claire.” Jamie stared into the tiny box holding a small gold signet ring with the Leoch College seal, astonishment on his face.

“It’s only ten karat, but the salesman said it wouldn’t scratch as easily as the eighteen karat one. If you’re not the jewelry type, I can take it back…” She stared at the rug, wringing her hands. 

“Claire...” Jamie looked up, trying to catch her eye as he spoke a little louder. “I love it.” 

She glanced up, relieved, as he slipped the ring onto his right pinkie finger. “It fits perfectly. How did ye ken my size?” 

“Well…” She scooted a little closer to him on the couch, threading her fingers through his, her gaze fixed on his large hands. “I’ve spent a lot of time getting to know these hands, and I noticed that my thumb looks about the same as your pinkie finger, so I took a chance.”

He leaned over, placed his hand on her knee, and kissed her, gently rubbing her nose with his afterward. “Thank ye, Sassenach.” 

She pulled away, biting her lip anxiously, realizing that there was no turning back now. “One more.” Reaching down, she brought up a large flat rectangle. “Something completely different.” A wave of nervous adrenaline hit her, and her stomach felt as though it had been suddenly inhabited by a beehive. 

Sure, he’d liked the ring, she thought. It might have been expensive, but it was professional. But this? 

_He loves me, he loves me, he loves me_ … She repeated it to herself over and over, trying to calm down. It was the kind of gift that a married couple might get for each other, and they’d only been dating for… oh God, it was exactly three months to the day that they’d made love for the first time in her office. 

Three months. Only three months. 

_Oh, shit_ … 

“Claire? Claire!” Jamie’s voice snapped her out of her trance. He reached a finger under her jaw, tipping it upward, meeting her eyes with his. “Ye seem a wee bit anxious. Would ye rather no’ do this?” 

_God_ , she loved him. She took a deep breath. “Am I really that easy to read?”

“Yer face is an open book, Sassenach. To me, at least. Like a glass I can look through and see yer heart.” He kissed the tip of her nose, reaching up to stroke her hair. “Seriously, if ye’re no’ comfortable or ye changed yer mind, it’s okay. I love you. Whatever ye want is fine.”

“No,” she replied, resolute. “Open it. I’m being silly.”

His fingers gently tore at the paper, and a smile spread over his face. 

“You like astronomy and space so much…I saw an ad for these online, and I thought maybe you might like one. I just got nervous because we haven’t been together that long, and it suddenly felt too personal.”

As he looked up at her, holding her with his steady gaze, she could see some moisture collecting in the corner of his eye. He blinked twice, and his smile grew wider. 

"It’s perfect.” His voice hitched slightly. “That was one of the best days of my life, ye ken.” 

She smiled back, her heart racing, then turned her head to look down at the framed map of the night sky on September 14, the night of their first date. They had kissed for the first time under those exact stars, those particular constellations. The world had kept turning in the three months, and winter stars now graced the evening sky, but looking back, Claire realized that her life had changed that night, though she hadn’t known it at the time.

“I love you,” she murmured as she leaned in to kiss him, her tongue lazily dancing with his. Jamie reached up, tracing the shell of her ear before his hand came to rest on her jawline. She gently bit his lip as he slowly pulled back, still embracing her with his eyes. 

  
  


*****

Feeling slightly less nervous after opening his own gifts, Jamie gave her another gentle kiss. 

“My turn,” he proclaimed with a grin, standing up and reaching for an envelope that had been discreetly tucked into the branches of the tree. He handed it to her, and she opened it, took out a piece of paper, and began reading. Her eyes widened as she processed what it said. 

“You planted trees for me? In the Amazon? That’s lovely. Thank you.” She beamed at him as she kept reading. 

“I heard about these fans, ye ken, of some actress—a few got together and organized this tree planting project. They ended up planting a whole forest” He shifted in his seat and his voice became quieter. “I thought since ye’re a botanist and all, that planting trees might be something ye’d like.” He paused before continuing, watching her intently. “Do ye know why it’s 130?” 

“Why?” She looked up at him, her head tipped quizzically.

“One for every day that I’ve known ye, every day that ye’ve been in my heart.” He took her hand in his, gently stroking her fingers, holding her with his gaze. “I want to plant ye a forest, but ye ken it may take a while.”

“Oh, Jamie,” she sighed, her eyes misting. After leaning in to kiss her, they sat for a minute, foreheads touching. He continued to stroke her fingers, eventually bringing her hand to his lips as he leaned back.

“I have something else for ye,” he added,stretching to reach under the tree, and retrieving two boxes. “Two things, actually.” He sat up, handed her the larger one, and she began to open it, pulling on the ribbon. 

“I was at Madame Jeanne’s too,” he said nervously, licking his lips. “I loved the wee red present ye gave me the other night, but when I found this, I knew I wanted to see ye in it. I couldna help myself.”

Claire lifted the lid to reveal an ankle-length, low cut cream-colored silk nightgown, edged in lace, together with a sheer lacy matching robe. He had seen it on a mannequin, and the sight of it had brought a lump to his throat. It was just enough like a wedding gown that if she wore it, he could imagine her that way, as his bride. He was ecstatic that she returned his love, and he knew to the marrow of his bones that he wanted to spend his life with her. But given her history, would she risk marriage again? He wasn’t ready to take a chance that she would turn him down, but the nightgown, with its unspoken promise, proved irresistible. For now, he would let his imagination be enough. 

“I thought…ye’re so beautiful, Claire. I saw it in the shop and I had to see ye in it. It’s a selfish gift, as much for me as you.” He was rambling and he knew it, but felt compelled to fill the air between them.

She looked up at him, smiling, but there was something else in her expression that he couldn’t quite place. Was it recognition? Did she realize what he was thinking? He swallowed another lump that had formed in his throat, trying to compose his features so as not to give away his true purpose.

“It’s beautiful.” She broke away from his gaze, running her fingers over the silk. “I can’t wait to try it on. The fabric is incredible.” 

“One last wee thing…” He reached behind him, pulling out a smaller box and handing it to her. 

Taking the stick-on bow off the top, Claire reached up and stuck it to his head playfully. 

“You’re my favorite present,” she told him, her eyes twinkling, before turning her attention back to the box. 

She opened it to find the pearls in their satiny pouch. His mother’s pearls. Hopefully, someday Claire would agree to marry him, and they would belong to his wife. Perhaps she would wear them to their wedding someday. For now, it was enough that they would simply be hers. 

In his heart, he sent out a silent wish to the universe that it be so, along with a prayer to his mother. _Watch over her, mam. She’s everything to me._

“They’re vintage, ye ken. Scotch pearls. They just said _Claire_ to me. I hope ye like them.” 

She held them carefully, running her fingers over them, then looked up at him, smiling. 

“They’re perfect, Jamie. Just perfect.” 

  
  


*****

  
  


She recognized them. The pearls. The pouch. It took a moment, but she remembered where she’d seen them. 

Samhain. The service. These were the pearls that Jamie had so reverently placed on the memorial altar. They were more than just “vintage,” but how? Whose were they? What did they mean to him? More importantly, what did he mean by giving them to her? 

He looked at her with such tenderness and longing that it nearly broke her heart. And that nightgown…that was a wedding night ensemble. Could he mean— 

_Stop it, Beauchamp. You’re letting your imagination run wild and you’re getting way ahead of yourself. It’s too soon. He can’t possibly mean that. For once in your life, just enjoy the moment._

“They’re perfect, Jamie. Just perfect.” 

  
  


*****

That night, his heart nearly leaped out of his chest. He had been sitting by the fire working a crossword and didn’t hear her approach. The air shifted; he sensed her presence and turned his head. Seeing her there by firelight, all silk and lace, his mother’s pearls draped around her neck, his breath caught short, and he saw her as his bride. His wife. Never in his life had he wanted anything so desperately. Never in his life had he loved another so completely.

Her eyes locked with his as she stepped toward him, and he stood up, wrapping her in his arms. Holding her. Treasuring her. Protecting her. Adoring her. 

Sometimes when they made love it was like an unstoppable wildfire, burning out of control. Other times, it was a slowly building wave rolling over them both. But this time, this moment, was different. This was something new. Not just the hope of his daydreamed future — no, it was as though this vision of her, this sight of his beloved, broke through some barrier, a wall he had built around himself over the years without even realizing it. It shattered at the sight of her, and his heart was laid bare. Raw. Vulnerable. Open. 

He slipped the gown over her shoulders, and it fell to the floor, puddled around her ankles. He took her then, tenderly, his soul splayed open before her, an offering. They burned together, ruby embers rippling with light, their desire both sated and unceasing, paradoxical; its energy flowed through them, surrounded them, sustained them like the oxygen in their lungs. 

At the moment of their mutual climax, his eyes held hers with unspeakable tenderness as he lost himself in her, body and soul, knowing he would never again be complete without her at his side.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! 
> 
> The Star Map that Claire gave Jamie can be found at thenightsky.com (cut and paste into your browser- AO3 won't let me do a link here)
> 
> In case you've been living under a rock, the tree project Jamie mentioned is real! Over 55,000 trees were planted in Caitriona Balfe's honor for her birthday last fall. You can find it at twitter.com/projcaitreena (again, cut and paste) or search Project CaiTREEna within Twitter. The last I heard they were planning to make it an annual event.


	42. Shopping Trip: December 29, 2020

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just a wee bit of domestic fluff before New Year's Eve. Claire ponders the future.

[ ](https://ibb.co/y815Jgv)

“Ready to go soon?” Jamie called upstairs to Claire. “It’s a wee bit chilly out there, but at least it’s no’ snowing.”

“Almost,” she answered, pulling her hair into a loose, messy bun. The hair tie snapped, and she cursed under her breath as she dug another one out of her makeup bag. She looked at the mirror. _As good as it gets_ … 

They were headed into town for a grocery run. It was a solid 45 minute drive one way into Lowville, mostly on icy Adirondack back roads, and neither of them wanted to spend any longer on the errand than absolutely necessary. Jamie had already warmed up the car when she hopped in. He smiled, nodded, and gave her a quick peck on the cheek before shifting into gear and heading up the driveway.

“What do ye think about going out for dinner on New Year’s Eve, Sassenach?” Jamie glanced quickly at Claire, before returning his attention to the road. “Might be nice. I know a place.”

“Around here? In the middle of nowhere?” Claire’s eyebrows involuntarily went up, registering her disbelief. 

“Aye. I’ll grant ye that there’s no’ much to pick from, but there’s a decent place right on the lake. They do a great roast duck. Their seafood is good too. Crab cakes. Salmon. They’re open year round, but in the summer, they hang dozens of hummingbird feeders all over their deck, and I swear every hummingbird in New York state comes to feed. Ye can watch them while ye eat. Incredible sight—the wee things darting back and forth from the woods, all flapping their wings so fast ye canna see them—the wings, I mean. Of course, no’ in the wintertime.”

Claire laughed. “I wouldn’t think so. An evening out sounds great. Why not? We haven’t gone out to dinner since we got here.”

“Well, to be fair, Sassenach,” he smirked, “we have been a wee bit busy.”

A blush spread over her cheeks, and she bit her lip as she smiled. “We have indeed.”

After riding on in companionable silence, each lost in thought, they finally arrived at the store. Shopping took the better part of an hour, mostly due to their unfamiliarity with the layout and having to double back for things they missed, but it didn’t matter. They laughed and teased each other gently, occasionally holding each other’s gaze a moment longer than absolutely necessary. They argued over the differences between tangerines and mandarins, along with the virtues of French roast coffee versus donut-store blend. They kissed in the cereal aisle.

The place was busy, with shoppers returning unwanted Christmas gifts, grabbing some after-holiday bargains, and shopping for New Year’s parties. By the time they were ready to check out, they found themselves stuck in a long line in between a sneezing teenager who couldn’t be bothered to use tissues and a harried mother with two preschoolers, one of whom kept trying to climb onto Jamie’s back. Claire felt bad leaving him to duck out and grab some cranberry juice that she’d almost forgotten.

Finally at the front of the line, they reached the red-faced, exhausted cashier who scanned their items slowly, as though she barely had the energy to move. Claire felt sorry for her, and helped with the bagging, as Jamie unloaded their items onto the belt.  
Happy to be out of the madness, they quickly loaded up their purchases and headed back into the wilds, listening to the news on NPR until they lost the radio signal completely somewhere on an unnamed dirt road.

Claire had begun to realize that all the anxieties she had brought with her to the cabin had faded away over the past two weeks. She and Jamie had settled into a comfortable domestic routine with an ease that both shocked and delighted her. They enjoyed each other’s company, often having long conversations or friendly debates about this topic or that. Their silences were easy as well—comfortable and cozy, like a favorite sweater. Since they had exchanged gifts, her thoughts had often drifted to imagining a future together. Little bits of domesticity danced in her daydreams. Moving in together. Doing laundry. Planting flowers. Small moments, all, but each carrying the hope of something more.

In the aftermath of her divorce, Claire swore to herself that she’d never again become so entangled with a man that it required lawyers and court filings to walk free. But now? What she had with Jamie, what she _felt_ for Jamie was worlds apart from anything she’d experienced in her marriage. She never used to believe in the idea of soul mates, but she had to admit to herself that she was starting to understand the concept. She smiled to herself at the thought. Jamie glanced at her, quickly returning his gaze to the snow-covered road.

“Ye look happy, Sassenach,” he observed.

“I am.”

He beamed back at her, then drove on into the snowy woods, headed for home. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Stillwater Restaurant is a real place! You'll get to see a photo of it on the moodboard for the upcoming NY Eve chapter. They really do have a gazillion hummingbirds in the summer, and you can sit on the deck and watch them zip by. 
> 
> It's a very cold day at the cabin, but the sun will be out a wee bit as the afternoon rolls on. Tomorrow, more snow is in the forecast.
> 
> This chapter is un-beta-ed, so any and all mistakes are my own.


	43. New Year's Eve: December 31, 2020

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jamie and Claire enjoy a New Year's Eve that goes a wee bit cattywampus. Just a wee bit...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy New Year to all my wonderful readers. You all have made 2020 a wee bit brighter for me, and I'm so grateful for all your support of this first-time fic writer. 
> 
> Here's to a better 2021!! 
> 
> Thanks to my beta for this chapter, Danielle (SmashingTeacups), my own living, breathing thesaurus.

[ ](https://ibb.co/X8cDmWt)  
  


They’d spent several hours of the last day of 2020 tromping through the snow, courtesy of the snowshoes Jamie had discovered in the shed near the woodpile, which was why Claire wasn’t surprised to be feeling rather tired by dinnertime. As planned, they had dressed up a bit and gone out to the restaurant for an early dinner to avoid the crowds that would converge on the place later, but despite the delicious food, Claire hadn’t had much appetite, and they brought most of her meal back home with them. Crossing the threshold first, she turned to Jamie. 

“Bolt the door.” 

“Sorry, what?” he asked, taking off his hat.

“Bolt the door,” she repeated. “That door has a draft, but if you use the deadbolt, not just the lock on the doorknob, it’s not so bad.” 

Jamie complied, then took off his boots. A few minutes later, Claire had changed into his flannel shirt—one that he’d left at her place and she had adopted as her own—and some thick woolen socks. The shirt hung nearly halfway down her thighs and had enough room to tuck her legs up under it when she was reading in front of the fire. In the meantime, Jamie had changed into an old pair of sweatpants and a Leoch College hoodie. 

“Ye’re looking a wee bit peely-wally, Sassenach,” he observed. “Are ye feeling okay?” 

“I’m fine,” Claire deflected, not wanting him to fuss since he’d done so much on this trip already. “Just a little cold is all. Once I spend a little while in front of the fire I’ll be okay.”

“Would ye like a hot toddy?” he offered. “Scottish penicillin, ye ken. Hot tea, honey, lemon, and a wee dram of whisky—it’ll warm ye right up.” 

“That sounds perfect.” 

Disappearing into the kitchen, he left Claire curled up near the fire, a blanket wrapped around her. The truth of the matter was that she was quite chilled, and had a slightly out-of-body feeling that often accompanied the early days of a nasty bug. The former nurse part of her brain recognized that she would likely be feeling quite miserable in the next day or so, but the Jamie-centered part of her brain refused to acknowledge the possibility, instead reasoning that she’d be just fine after a toddy or two. 

He returned, steaming mug in hand, and placed it gently on the side table next to her chair. “Sip on that; it’ll help.” 

“Thank you,” Claire replied, picking up the mug and smelling the whisky vapors already rising from it. She took a sip and swallowed the warm amber liquid, feeling the heat begin to seep into her limbs as she did. Jamie had poured the whisky with a heavy hand as always, and she had never appreciated it more. 

“Ye mind if I duck upstairs to the office for a wee bit?” he asked, picking up a few folders and thumbing through them. “I have some work I promised myself I’d get done before the end of the year, and I dinna have much time left. Department reports. Next time we drive into town, I’ll drop by the café and get them sent off.” 

“Of course.” She waved him off with her hand. “Go. I’m just going to sip my toddy and warm up. Are you still up for a movie later? Murtagh has quite the DVD collection.” 

“Wouldna miss it. Pick whatever ye want. This shouldna take me much more than an hour.” 

Although they had mostly managed to avoid work since they’d arrived, some things just couldn’t be put off, and they had set up their laptops in the spare room. Trips to town often involved a stop at the local coffee shop — in addition to the free Wi-Fi, the coffee was excellent and the pastries were good, although not quite as good as at Mrs. Fitz’s. 

By mutual agreement, they had decided to avoid the New Year’s Eve crowds, such as they were in the remote location. The few places that were open would be packed with locals, and they didn’t want to risk the late night drive home on snowy roads. Claire was glad of the decision now, as she shivered in her chair. She quickly downed the hot toddy, and went to the kitchen to make another, which she drank staring at the fire. After a third, she decided to check on Jamie. It had been an hour. Surely he was done, or nearly so. Feeling lightheaded and plenty warm from the fire now—a little too warm if she was honest with herself—she had a few ideas about how to distract the very professional Dr. Fraser from his never-ending mountain of paperwork.

He looked up as she walked into the room, one eyebrow raised, and a quizzical look spread over his face. She sauntered across the room, hips swaying, then leaned over the table where they had set up their laptops. As she caressed a path down his jawline with a finger, she was met by his amused gaze. 

“I think you’ve done enough work for one year, Dr. Fraser,” she giggled.

He took hold of her hand, immediately let it go and reached up to press his palm to her cheek.

“ _ Christ _ , Claire, ye’re burning up!” he exclaimed, his brow furrowing. “Ye’ve been a wee bit off all day…and ye ate hardly any dinner. Ye’ve got some sort of bug for sure.” Standing up, he took hold of her upper arms, keeping her steady on her feet. “That day in the coffee shop at midterm, when I told ye that I’d gotten my flu shot, did ye ever run over to the health center to get yours?” 

“No,” she sighed, her eyes drifting shut for a moment, “I didn’t. I just got busy and forgot about it.” 

“And ye didna get one anywhere else?” 

She shook her head, noticing the world spinning internally as she did.

“Well, my bet is that ye’ve got the flu. It’s bad this year. Ye saw how sick our cashier was the other day? Or that kid in the line with us?” Jamie sighed, pulling her close into a hug and planting a kiss on her forehead. “Dinna fash,  _ mo chridhe _ , I’ve had my shot and I’ll take good care of ye.” 

Claire reached down, cupped his arse with her hands and gave it a squeeze while grinding her hips against him. “I’m really not so bad. Just a little warm. How about we ring out the old year properly, hmm?” Up on her tiptoes, she stretched, swaying slightly, and leaned in to kiss his neck. 

“Just how many hot toddies have you had?” Jamie laughed, gently pushing her away from him, still holding on to her upper arms.

“Just what you gave me…and another…or two that I made myself. They’re absolutely delicious,” she replied, slurring her words slightly, “and so good for warming me up when I was cold.” 

“Ye have a fever, Claire. We should get ye into bed.” 

With a mischievous grin on her face, she palmed his crotch, stroking firmly. “Only if you come with me.” 

“ _ Christ _ , Claire, do I look like the sort of man to take advantage of a woman who’s not only boiling wi’ fever, but drunk as well?!”

“I’m not drunk,” she giggled again, a little louder this time. “You told me that you cannot be drunk if you’re standing up.” Her hand squeezed him firmly, picking up the pace of her movement.

“I will say,” he choked, forcing himself into an awkward smile, “ye’ve a damn healthy grip for someone wi’ a fever.” 

Laughing louder, she spontaneously dropped to her knees, and yanked down the waistband of his sweatpants, freeing his growing erection. Taking him into her mouth, she immediately went to work on him, licking circles around the crown of his cock before taking him in as deeply she could while working the base with her hand.

“Oh God,” he gasped, “ye really shouldna…ye need to rest…to keep up yer strength.” 

She continued her ministrations, humming to herself, lost in the thought of driving him to distraction.

“Ye’re so warm…this must be what it’s like making love in hell, wi’ a burning she-devil!”

Suddenly releasing him, she stood up and shimmied out of her knickers, pulled the shirt over her head and tossed it to the floor, then stroked him again with her hand while planting kisses on his chest. 

“Care to make a deal with the devil?” she whispered, her tongue licking a trail up his neck.

Casting a glance up at him, she recognized immediately that his resolve had crumbled. Her intuition proved correct as he spun her around, bracing her hands on the dresser. Wiggling her arse against his now rock-hard length, she moved up and down. A moan escaped his lips a moment before he positioned himself and entered her. She leaned over the dresser, angling herself a bit, then looked in the mirror in front of her. 

Maybe it was the fever. Maybe it was the toddies. Maybe it was some magic of Jamie himself. Whatever the reason, her sensation was heightened, and she felt every inch of him exquisitely as he thrust into her again and again. 

“Ye’re so hot, Claire… _ God _ , so wet,” his strangled voice gasped as he peppered kisses over the blazing flesh of her shoulders before latching onto her trapezius with his teeth. She moved against him, her eyes fixed on the mirror, watching her breasts bounce with every stroke.

Her head was spinning. Foggy with fever, her mind lurched from sensation to sensation as he built her up to the edge, reaching around her to stroke her. She laughed out loud at the absurdity of it all, the two of them, rutting like animals in heat. Her fever-drunk body rocked back and forth against him, flooded with sensation, and she broke, loudly crying out a string of obscenities, then groaning as she rode out the echoes of her climax. He finished a moment later, gripping her around the waist, pulling her closer, gasping. Sliding out, he kissed her between her shoulder blades. 

The room was still spinning as she stood, her hands still braced against the dresser, trying to ground herself and failing miserably. 

A moment later, she began to shiver. 

  
  


*****

He looked at her in the mirror. Glassy-eyed and flushed with fever, she was shivering. Feeling a wee bit guilty in spite of her insistence, he tucked his cock back into his boxers, then pulled up his sweatpants. 

“Come on, Sassenach,” he sighed, “let’s get ye to bed. I dinna think ye can stand on yer feet much longer.” 

He gently led her to the master bedroom, and sat her down on the edge of the bed, telling her to sit still for a moment while he found her some clothes. He looked through her things, finding only lingerie (tempting at any other moment), jeans, and several very nice sweaters. Casting a glance at her, he realized that she looked as though she might vomit at any moment. 

Not wanting to risk ruining her clothes, he reached into the drawer that held his own things and grabbed a pair of sweatpants with a drawstring and a ratty old Leoch College sweatshirt. If she vomited on these, it wouldn’t be a great loss. He knelt down, slipping one foot then the other into the pants, pulled her up to standing, then pulled the drawstring to tighten it. 

“Jamie, I’m fine, really…” she mumbled. 

“Ye’re no’ fine, Claire,” he replied, gently pulling the sweatshirt over her head. “Ye have the flu. And ye’re a wee bit tipsy too, whether ye admit it or no’. Here. Lean back,  _ mo nighean donn _ . _ ” _ He eased her down into the bed, pulling the heavy covers up over her shivering body. “I’ll get ye some plain water. I think ye’ll be needing it.” 

By the time he returned with the water, she had fallen asleep. He leaned over, kissed her fevered forehead, then went back to his work. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I discovered a live cam from the Adirondacks that you might be interested in taking a wee keek at. If you cut and paste: https://pureadirondacks.com/pages/adirondack-webcams  
> and click on Stillwater Reservoir, you can get a LIVE look at the view from the top balcony of the restaurant where Jamie and Claire have their dinner tonight. The view looks out over the frozen lake, with the small pavilion in the distance marking the edge of the water. In summer, the area you see is a boat launch. It's a wee bit snowy to sit on the deck, and the hummingbirds are away for the winter, but you can see a live view of how things are at a location very close to our fictional cabin right now. Enjoy! 
> 
> I promised there would be no Covid in this AU, but I never promised no flu! I hope you enjoyed this take on Turtle Soup. For those who haven't read the books, Claire's um... "attention" to Jamie here follows the book version rather than the show. I trust that no one objects to my choice to follow that version.
> 
> In any case, I hope you're feeling better than Claire right now. Happy New Year to all!


	44. Loved: January 1, 2021

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The day after the night before...

[ ](https://ibb.co/R4FyFtF)

Every inch of her ached. 

She was certain that some sort of evil gnome was hammering on the inside of her skull. On top of that, she was roasting. Throwing off the covers, she tried to sit up, but was hit with a wave of dizziness that forced her to lay down again, her dry throat gasping for air as she began to cough. She opened her eyes and tried to focus on the ceiling. When she heard Jamie come up the stairs, she tried again to sit up, only to have to grab the bedpost to keep herself steady. 

“Och, there’s my puir lass,” he said tenderly. He had brought with him a tray with tea, water, and toast. “Here. Try to drink some water until the tea cools down. Just plain this time. I think ye had enough toddies last night. Ye’re feverish and a wee bit hungover too I’d bet.” 

Too exhausted to argue with him, she took a sip, then another. 

“What time is it?” she croaked.

“Nearly two in the afternoon,” he answered, placing his hand on her forehead. 

Two in the afternoon. She’d been out for fourteen hours. No wonder her bladder felt ready to burst. 

“I need to…” She stood up, holding on to the bedpost for support, stumbling on her first step forward. 

“Aye, ye do,” Jamie replied as he grabbed around her waist, supporting her as she walked. “But no’ by yerself. Ye’re too shaky on yer feet.” 

He walked her carefully to the bathroom, placed her hands on the sink, then turned to step out of the room. “I’ll give ye some privacy, but call me if ye feel dizzy. It willna do to have ye slip and crack yer head on the tub.” 

Claire slumped down on the toilet, grateful that he’d left. Holding her head in her hands, she relieved herself, then stood up cautiously before turning to the sink to wash her hands. 

_Bloody hell_ … 

She caught a glimpse of the mirror: dark circles, cracked lips, red eyes…and her hair. God help her hair. Sticking out in all directions, it was a tangled chaotic monstrosity. And what on _earth_ was she wearing? She had no recollection of changing clothes — how did she end up in sweats? And that ragged old shirt? This was exactly what she had hoped to avoid when she was packing for the trip. She coughed, and her head pounded again with the exertion of it. 

Jamie knocked gently on the door. 

“Ye okay? Ready to go back to bed?” 

“Yes,” she rasped between coughing fits. 

Opening the door, he guided her slowly and tenderly back to the bed, laid her down and tucked her in. 

  
  


*****

Jamie stood in the kitchen, surveying their stock of food. He didn’t want to leave Claire to make another run to the supermarket, but he wanted to make her something comforting that would help her feel better. Chicken soup, perhaps? They’d bought some chicken, planning to stir fry it, but it would do for soup instead. He had carrots, onions, celery…the trifecta of a foundation for the broth. And garlic. Lots of garlic. His sister swore by it when anyone was sick. He was slightly annoyed that he had no noodles, but he did have some rice and some herbs as well. 

Three hours later, he brought up a large mug filled with homemade soup to Claire’s bedside. She rolled over, covering her mouth as she coughed. 

“How are ye feeling, _mo ghr_ _à_ _idh?”_ He set the mug down on the bedside table and gently pushed a stray curl out of her face. 

As she struggled to sit up, she began to cough uncontrollably before turning her glassy-eyed gaze to him. “Jamie, I’m sorry. I know this isn’t the way we’d hoped to ring in the new year.”

“Hush, Sassenach,” he crooned, stroking her messy hair with his hand. “It’s alright. I’m glad I can take care of ye. It’s worse if ye’re alone and dinna have the energy to care for yerself.” 

She took a few sips of the soup, then spooned up some chicken from the broth, smiling weakly as she did, only briefly meeting his gaze. “Thank you, Jamie. I’m sorry you have to see me like this.” 

“Claire,” he murmured, taking the mug from her, setting it down, then taking both her hands in his. “I ken that ye’re no’ keen on how ye look right now, but I love ye, _mo chridhe_. I love ye.” He reached up, cupping her face in his hand and looking into her glazed eyes. “Ye’re beautiful, Claire, but if I only loved ye for yer pretty face, what sort of man would I be? I love yer big heart and yer sharp mind. I love how fierce ye can be. And yer sense of humor—how ye make me laugh, Sassenach. I love ye for who we are together. It’s the two of us now, remember? You are not alone. And having the flu doesn’t change any o’ that.” 

A single tear slipped down Claire’s cheek, and her chin quivered in an obvious effort to restrain her tears. Jamie pulled her closer, resting her head on his shoulder, and she began to cry in earnest. He rocked her gently in his arms, whispering to her in Gaelic as he did, planting kisses on her forehead and her curls. 

  
  


*****

Not since she was a young child had Claire felt so completely cared for as she did in that moment, crying sloppy tears, stuffing up her nose even more than it already was. He had seen her at her worst, and it hadn't mattered a bit. She wasn’t a problem, or an inconvenience, or an embarrassment. He wasn’t resentful, or annoyed, or disgusted. 

She was _loved_. 


	45. Pillow Talk: January 5, 2021

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A wee bit of pillow talk before a Friday surprise.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you all had a wonderful holiday season. Claire and Jamie's time at the cabin is nearing an end. Their spring semester begins next week, with new story lines and new challenges, but we have one more wee surprise in store here at the cabin. Watch for it on Friday. In the meantime, enjoy some pillow talk. 
> 
> Thank you all for sticking with me! I appreciate your kind words, kudos and overall support. 
> 
> This chapter is un-beta-ed, so any and all grammatical catastrophes are my own. Mea culpa.

[ ](https://ibb.co/k21WYTQ)

Claire rolled over onto her side and snuggled closer to Jamie, planting a kiss on his shoulder. It was dawn, with the light just beginning to seep through the cracks in the curtains. 

“Feeling better, Sassenach?”

“A bit,” she ventured. “I’ll know more once I get moving, but I think I’m slowly on the mend.”

He leaned over to kiss her forehead. “Ye dinna seem feverish. How do ye feel about some breakfast? I’ll bring it up.”

She stretched, arching her back and wiggling her toes. “Breakfast sounds good. I should probably eat something.” She paused a moment. “I want to thank you, Jamie. I’m…I’m just not used to having anyone fuss over me the way you have these past few days. You’ve been so kind. I—” 

He cut her off, stroking a hand through the wild tangle of her curls. “Sassenach, ye’re welcome, but ye’d do the same if I were sick, would ye no’?”

“Of course,” she immediately interjected, then took a deep breath before continuing. “It’s only that…since I lost my parents, there hasn’t been anyone to…bother. Frank wasn’t the nurturing type. I’m a little overwhelmed by it all to be honest.” A lump came to her throat that had nothing to do with the flu. “You made me soup. No one’s ever made me homemade soup when I was sick.”

He turned his gaze to her, holding her gently with his eyes, then pursed his lips together as though he was deciding whether or not to speak. After a long moment, he did.

“I havena pressed ye about yer marriage, Claire. It’s no’ my business and no’ my place to ask. But I canna help but take note when ye let a wee bit slip now and then. I dinna ken the man, which is probably for the best, but I stand by what I said on our second date. He didna deserve ye.”

She reached down, threading her fingers through his, then bringing them to her lips, kissing each one before continuing. She sighed.

“It was a mistake, the marriage. I’d only just lost my parents, and it was my first year as an undergraduate. He was charming at the start, and sophisticated, but in hindsight I realized he wasn’t really looking for an equal partner. He was the sun, in search of a planet—someone whose life would revolve around him. It was never going to be a partnership. I was stupid to think otherwise.”

Jamie kissed her softly, letting go of her hand to trace his finger along her eyebrow. “Ye were no’ stupid, _mo ghr_ _à_ _idh_. Ye were young, and grieving. Ye did the best ye could.”

Claire nodded, a weak smile spreading over her face. “Sometimes I think I don’t deserve _you_. You’re practically perfect. How did I ever get so lucky?”

He choked out a laugh as he pulled her closer. “God, Sassenach. I’m no saint. I’ve done plenty that I’m no’ proud of...things that I regret.”

“Haven’t we all…”

“None of it matters anymore, _mo chridhe_. What’s important now is that we found each other, hmm?” He nuzzled her neck, burying his face in her curls.

“Indeed we did.” 


	46. Adso:  January 8, 2021

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jamie and Claire meet a friend, and Claire comes to an important decision.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to Danielle (aka SmashingTeacups), my beta for this chapter, whose encouragement I deeply appreciate. She knows how to make all the words get themselves lined up properly. 
> 
> Sadly, their time at the cabin is nearing an end. This is the last chapter of cabin shenanigans. I hope you enjoyed their winter break as much as they did!

[ ](https://ibb.co/zsJn1SB)

Claire had slept better last night than she had in days. She and Jamie cuddled together in silence as the room grew brighter, the morning light slowly seeping in as dawn advanced across the eastern sky. When Jamie finally got up and started to get dressed, she decided that she would join him in the kitchen for breakfast instead of letting him bring it to her in bed as he had since she’d been sick. Her energy was finally returning, much to her relief. 

She did a few yoga stretches in the living room while Jamie puttered in the kitchen, feeling better than she had in days as she eased her limbs into a downward dog position. Maybe they could take a walk later. At the moment, there was nothing she craved more than fresh air. 

Standing up, she wandered over to the window that overlooked the porch and looked out, her eyes widening at the sight before her. 

“What in the world?” 

She could hear Jamie’s chuckle from the kitchen. “Aye,” he called out, “I’ve had some company.” 

“There’s a…a cat out there!” Claire blurted. “And it’s eating something from a dish?!”

“Aye,” Jamie chuckled, “that’s Adso.”

“Adso?” 

“Adso was the name of my mam’s cat. Looked exactly like this wee one.” Jamie wiped his hands on a dishtowel, then walked over to the window next to Claire. “He showed up a couple days ago—pitiful wee thing. I discovered that he had scratched out a little niche in the snow for shelter. He’d come up on the porch, but then run off as soon as I opened the door.”

“So you started to put out food?” 

“Aye. Poor cheetie won’t last long out there without food. He’s still a kitten. Likely half grown, but he’s just so thin. He canna make it on his own. He doesna have a collar, so he’s most likely a stray.” Jamie ran his fingers through his hair, his brow wrinkled with concern. “The real question is how to catch him before we leave next week.” 

“Catch him?” Claire’s jaw dropped. “You mean to keep him?” 

“I dinna ken. I canna have him at my place.” He leaned forward, resting his hands on the windowsill as they watched the cat eat. “They don’t allow pets, but my lease is up at the end of January, so mebbe I can find a place that would. In the meantime, I guess I could keep him at the office. Worst case scenario, I’d take him to a shelter. I canna just abandon the puir thing to freeze.” 

Claire’s ears perked up at the news that Jamie’s lease was up in January. Her place allowed pets…and maybe a roommate? Their time together at the cabin had gone so well. They were so compatible, slipping into a startlingly easy routine. The step to move in together seemed natural, even though she hadn’t really considered it before now. She looked up at him, mesmerized by his profile while he was intently focused on the tiny furry creature on the porch. Her heart skipped a beat, and she made a mental note to add “compassion for animals” to the long list of reasons why she loved him. 

“Adso” looked up, licked his lips and stared directly at Claire and Jamie through the window. 

“You do realize that ‘he’ might be a girl,” she pointed out with a smirk. 

Just then, Adso turned and walked off the porch, displaying very clear evidence of his not-yet-neutered anatomy. 

“Or not,” Jamie laughed in response.

“What have you been feeding him?” she asked.

“Mostly scraps of meat or eggs, a wee bit of cream and some shredded cheese,” Jamie replied. “But his favorite thing is ham. _Christ_ , that cat loves ham.” 

“You’re rather attached to him, aren’t you?” 

“Aye,” he sighed, “I am. I have a soft spot for strays.”

Claire reached up, wrapping her arms around his neck and pulled him into a hug, feeling a bit like a stray herself, adopted by Jamie and given kindness and love to heal her wounds. She pressed a kiss to his sternum, then turned her head and listened to his heartbeat. The steady thud-thud sent a rush of emotion through her, but instead of sending her insides into a flurry of nervous butterflies, she felt safer than she had in years, as though nothing in the world could ever harm her again. 

“I do love you, James Fraser,” she whispered. He kissed the top of her head, stroking his hand up and down her spine a few times. 

“Come on, Sassenach,” he said, pulling away from her, “Let’s get ye some breakfast. I’ve made some porridge that should go down easy.”

As Claire took her seat at the kitchen table, Jamie filled her bowl with steel-cut oats, offering her honey or cinnamon to top it off, then poured her a cup of coffee before serving himself and joining her at the table. 

“The problem is how to catch the wee thing. If I hadna named him Adso, I’d call him Flash. He’s so fast.” He paused for a moment to shovel in a few bites of oatmeal between thoughts. “He’s no’ quite sure whether to be afraid of us or not. If I try to grab him and miss, we’ll never catch him.” 

“Hmm…” Claire sipped her coffee. “Maybe trap him? Instead of trying to pick him up? Could we rig up something with food inside?”

Jamie squirted a big dollop of honey in his bowl. “Ye know… that’s an idea, Sassenach. I checked the shed, found an old pet carrier there. A bit rusty, but it’ll do. I thought I’d use it once we caught the cheetie, but I hadna considered using it as a trap.” He stroked his scruff, lost in thought. “The problem is that as soon as I open the cabin door, he takes off at a dash.” 

Claire took another bite, finding the bland cereal to be surprisingly delicious. Her appetite was coming back, and she was feeling mentally sharper than she had in days. “How about this…we rig it up by the cabin door so that when we open that door, it pushes the door of the carrier shut. Maybe put some ham in the far end to lure him in?” 

Jamie looked up from his bowl, a grin spreading over his face, crinkling the corners of his eyes. “You’re a genius! That just might work.” 

By mutual agreement, they decided to let Adso get good and hungry before springing the trap. They spent the rest of the morning working out the exact placement of the carrier next to the door, realizing that they had only one real chance to capture the timid creature. If he managed to run off, they’d probably never see him again. It was late in the afternoon when they heard the characteristic mewing cries that had led Jamie to discover the cat in the first place. They put some finely diced ham in the far corner of the carrier, then waited. Claire watched out the window, and Jamie positioned himself to quickly perform the door maneuver. 

“Hold steady...I see him,” Claire announced, her voice low. “He’s almost in.” 

“Got him!” A jubilant Jamie held the carrier door closed, then latched it securely before bringing the whole thing into the cabin. Setting it down, he drew Claire into a bear hug, sweeping her off her feet. 

Adso had begun to protest the situation, howling loudly at his confinement, but after a few minutes he grew quiet, apparently glad to be out of the cold. 

“Should we let him out?” Claire looked up at Jamie, her brow furrowed in concern. 

“I dinna see why not.” He shrugged. “We canna keep him cooped up until we leave.” 

Slowly and carefully, he squeezed the latch on the carrier and opened the door. Adso stepped out with one paw, tentative, sniffing the air as he did. He looked up at Jamie and Claire, blinking, then sneezed. 

“Oh, you poor sweetheart,” Claire gushed, then looked up at Jamie. “I’ve never heard a cat sneeze. It’s adorable!” 

“Aye,” Jamie crooned and murmured in Gaelic as Adso took a few more steps into the room. The kitten wandered around for a few minutes, sniffing at the furniture, before curling up on the hearth, purring. After a while, he even used the makeshift litter box that Jamie had filled with sand normally used on the driveway for winter traction.

“He’s amazingly entertaining,” Claire observed, curled up on the couch next to Jamie after spending a full hour simply watching Adso explore his surroundings.

“So was my mam’s cheetie. He was such a clever wee thing.” Jamie’s expression softened. “I used to love to play with him when I was a lad. We’d entertain each other, then curl up together to sleep on my bed at night.” 

“I never had a pet,” she mused. 

All afternoon Claire’s mind kept circling back to what Jamie had said about his lease being up soon. Over the past few weeks, she had realized that she didn’t want a version of her life without Jamie in it, come what may. Mustering her courage, she inhaled sharply. 

“You know…my apartment allows pets. And their rescuers.” She stared up at him, a slow smile spreading over her face.

Her words hung in the air between them for what felt like an infinite stretch of time.

“Are ye…are ye suggesting what I think ye’re suggesting, Sassenach?” Jamie hesitated, immediately looking a little pale. 

Suddenly regretting her offer, Claire turned her eyes from him, trying to deflect. “It’s okay. I didn’t expect…I don’t mean to rush things between us. You certainly don’t have to—” 

Jamie reached over, taking her hand in his, gently stroking the veins on the back. Looking up, he met her gaze. “If you feel ready for it, I’d love for us to live together, Claire.” 

A new smile slowly spread across her face as she processed his answer. “After these three weeks together, I can’t imagine going back to an empty apartment. I do want this, Jamie.” She looked at him intently, then her mood shifted, and she added with a lighthearted laugh, “Of course, you should probably consult Adso and see what he thinks.” 

“Adso!” Jamie called out, loud enough to distract the feline across the room, who looked up at the two. “How do ye feel about taking up residence with this lovely lass?” 

Adso stared for a moment, then promptly went back to grooming himself, licking a paw then swiping it across his ear. 

“I’m going to take that as a yes, Sassenach,” Jamie chuckled. “Ye’ve got two new roommates. I’ll give my landlord notice the moment we get back.”

After a light dinner (and a scrambled egg for Adso), they curled up on the couch, finally watching the movie they’d intended for New Year’s Eve. Murtagh’s collection skewed towards late-20th century blockbusters, and they’d settled on _Back to the Future_ , since Jamie had never seen it. It was probably a good thing, since Claire found that she couldn’t pay attention to the screen at all. Instead, her mind drifted to thoughts of living with Jamie, and she made a mental to-do list: clear closet space, move a bookshelf to make room for his desk, donate her set of cheap pots and pans since his were of much better quality… By the time Marty McFly had safely landed back in 1985, she had compiled a mental list of more than a dozen tasks for next week. 

Jamie took the disk out of the player and replaced it in its case. “That was fun, Sassenach. I dinna ken why I hadna seen it before.” 

“Glad you liked it.” Creeping up behind him, she wrapped her arms around his waist and gave him a gentle squeeze. After putting the box back on the shelf with the others, he turned around, her arms still encircling him, and kissed her forehead, pulling her closer into his own sturdy embrace. 

“How are ye feeling?” he murmured. 

“Better,” she purred into his ear. “Much, much better.”

“Och, are ye now?” Jamie let his hand drift down onto her arse, giving it a gentle squeeze. “Think ye might be up to—” 

His words were cut off as she stretched up, catching his mouth and pulling it into a deep, thorough kiss. 

“Why yes, I think I might be,” she answered as they parted, taking him by the hand and leading him upstairs to the bedroom. 

It had been a week since they’d been together, and they satisfied their immediate pent-up need with a sense of desperation that left them panting and sweaty, with clothing scattered around the room like wrapping paper on Christmas morning. Afterward, Claire lay half on top of Jamie, a leg sprawled over his waist, her fingers tracing patterns on his chest. They both dozed off, waking again around midnight for a second session of lovemaking, this time slow and rhythmic. Fingers threaded together, they moved, breathing as one, each seeking to hold the connection as long as possible, not willing to let go. The air thick with the scent of their union, they slept, wrapped together in a tangle of heavy limbs. 

*****

Jamie woke at first light, his heart fit to burst with joy. These three weeks had been the happiest of his life. Things between him and Claire were better than he had dreamed possible, and although he had hoped they would live together eventually, the realization that it would happen in a matter of weeks rather than months or years made him ridiculously grateful to the scrawny little ball of fluff curled up in the corner who had prompted Claire’s offer. 

“I owe ye one, Adso,” he whispered. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The story of Adso here is a true one (minus the gorgeous Scotsman, sadly). Years ago, I was away on a weekend retreat at a nearby state park with some girlfriends, and we rescued a small grey cat, exactly as described here. I adopted him and he grew into a very spoiled fat cat who never stopped craving ham. He was my constant companion and best buddy for 13 years. His name in real life was Icicle, and he is shown on the moodboard in the upper left of the four small squares. The photo was taken on the porch of our cabin before he was rescued so many years ago. It gave me a lot of joy to write his story into the fic.


	47. Board Meeting: January 12, 2021

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jamie gets a surprise at the first Board of Trustees meeting for 2021 in this wee mini chapter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Leoch College's semester started yesterday, so sadly their time at the cabin is over, but I hope you enjoyed their break as much as they did! 
> 
> This chapter is un-betaed, so any and all errors are my own!

[ ](https://ibb.co/x88vsqs)

5:00 PM

Jamie was running late of course, so he barely glanced around the room as he entered the Board of Trustees meeting that had just begun. He took a seat at the long table, nodding briefly to the assembled group as he shuffled the stack of papers before him. 

“Ah, here he is,” Colum began. “Before we begin, I’d like to congratulate Dr. James Fraser on accepting the position of President of Leoch College beginning this August. I know I can enjoy my retirement with him at the helm of leadership.”

Colum reached out to shake Jamie’s hand. Jamie smiled at the smattering of polite applause. 

“Now,” Colum continued, “onward into 2021. We’ve already acknowledged our outgoing board members at the December meeting, and now I’d like to note our new members who will be with us for the next five years. We’re pleased to welcome Hugh Munro. Hugh is a Leoch alum, class of 1983, majoring in business administration and computer science. Welcome aboard.” 

Munro briefly stood and acknowledged the welcome with a smile and a nod before sitting back down again.

“Our second new board member is Geneva Dunsaney Ellesmere. Although not a Leoch alum, she has been involved in the world of higher education through the Dunsaney Foundation, which has provided support to deserving undergraduate and graduate students through grant funding for decades. Her husband’s investment firm, Ellesmere Financial, based in New York City, opened up a new branch office in the area in 2019, expanding to serve upstate New York and they moved into the area last year. We have Clarence Sandringham to thank for recruiting her for Leoch.”

An attractive woman in her late twenties stood and smiled, looking around at each of the board members before resting her gaze on Jamie.

“Thank you, Colum,” she acknowledged, her voice smooth as silk, “for your kind welcome. I very much look forward to working with everyone here, most especially our new president when he takes over in August…”

Jamie felt sick. From the moment Colum had said the name “Geneva,” a wave of adrenaline had flushed over him, turning his hands to ice as he broke out into a cold sweat. Nausea hit him, and he thought he might vomit on the spot. In his rush, he hadn’t seen her when he first arrived, but now…

_Oh, God..._

She stared at him as she stood up to acknowledge Colum’s welcome, and her eyes remained fixed on him, unwavering, as she spoke her thank yous. A smile spread over her face. “Congratulations, Jamie,” she crooned, raising an eyebrow.

Jamie choked back the bile that was rising in his throat and managed to respond appropriately. “Thank you, Ms. Ellesmere.”

Colum looked back and forth between the two. “I had no idea you two knew each other,” he interjected. “That’s fantastic! Welcome aboard, Geneva.”

The rest of the meeting proceeded as usual, but Jamie could barely focus on the various reports and statements that were discussed. By sheer force of will, he had calmed his wame, but his palms never lost their clamminess. As the meeting was breaking up, he quickly gathered his things and bolted from the room before she had a chance to corner him. Stopping by his office, he grabbed his briefcase and coat and took off at a jog to his SUV. As he tore out of the parking lot, he gripped the steering wheel with white knuckles.

His thoughts turned back again to Claire, as they had from the moment he heard Geneva’s name. She had only ever seen the best of him. Would she leave him if she knew the worst? 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Take a nice deep breath. It will be okay. I promise. I willna leave ye hanging for long. Dinna fash.


	48. The Shadow of the Past

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The one in which we find out all about Jamie's secrets...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you as always for your kind words and comments. The spring semester will bring new and unexpected challenges, but I do promise not to leave you hanging for long, and of course, there will be a happy ending. I plan to keep writing this until early May, so we've got a ways to go yet! 
> 
> Thank you to my beta for this chapter, Danielle ( aka SmashingTeacups), who never lets me get away with sloppy plotting! 
> 
> Be aware that this chapter contains a major departure from canon. It also contains some non-consensual content.

[ ](https://ibb.co/DbnpfL9)

**April, 2008: Reception for grant recipients of the Dunsaney Foundation, Boston.**

He saw her from across the room. 

Geneva Dunsaney was talking to a group of undergraduates when she looked up, her eyes catching his.

 _Shit._

Now he would have to duck out to the men’s room, the only place he knew for certain he could escape her.  
  
She’d been there through the whole process, attending each one of his interviews with representatives from the foundation, always batting her eyes at him, always flirting. Geneva was barely eighteen herself, a first-year student, but her family wanted her to learn how the foundation worked, so they’d given her the task of reading some of the applications, then attending several rounds of interviews. She’d told him flat-out that his application was the only one she was really interested in, shamelessly dropping innuendos during their various interactions. 

He’d tried to be delicate. Tactful. Polite. He realized that she was young, reckless, and more than a little spoiled. She was used to getting her own way. He didn’t want to ruin his chances for the very generous grant that would not only support his studies, but give him a stipend for living expenses as well. So he’d met her for coffee once, and again for a foundation luncheon, always careful not to lead her on, not to promise more than he was willing to give. Always meeting in public, he had never so much as kissed her. 

But lately she had become more and more difficult to avoid. She had his phone number from his grant application, and had taken to texting him, always asking about when they could go on a “real” date. She’d asked him to dinner more than once, but he’d always managed to find an excuse — gently deflecting, hoping she’d take the hint. 

When the grant finally came through, he had breathed a sigh of relief; his funding was finally secure, and he didn’t have to keep up the charade anymore. He needed to stay at the reception for an appropriate amount of time for politeness’ sake, but he didn’t want to drag it out. The plan was to grab a bite from the buffet, thank the higher ups from the foundation, then leave as quickly as possible, hopefully never having to lay eyes on her again. After lurking in the bathroom until he was fairly certain Geneva must have found someone else to occupy her attention, he stepped out into the hallway. 

“There you are!” she gushed, standing not four feet from him in the hallway. “I’ve been looking for you. When are you going to officially take me out?” She placed her palm on his chest, gently pushing. Instinctively, he backed up until she had him pinned against a wall where she reached up with a finger to loosen his tie. “You realize that this is technically our third date—” 

“Geneva, I dinna think—” 

“Oh, Jamie, I _dinna think_ you’ll need to do a lot of actual thinking on a _third_ date.” She trailed the finger down the front of his shirt until she reached his waistband. Moving lower, she cupped his groin with her hand and began to stroke through the fabric of his trousers. Involuntarily, to his great dismay, he felt himself begin to harden. 

“Oh, there you are… my, my, you are a _big boy_ , aren’t you? I like that…” 

He’d had enough. Smacking her fingers away, he sidestepped around her, and away from the wall. 

“Ms. Dunsaney, I’ve tried to be polite. I should never have met ye for coffee or gone to the luncheon with ye. I didna mean to lead ye on.” He struggled to contain his rising anger; involuntarily, his voice grew louder as he continued, “I’ve tried to be kind and no’ hurt yer feelings, but we need to be clear about one thing. I’m _not_ interested. I dinna want to go on any dates, and I absolutely dinna want to sleep with you! Not now, not ever! Are we clear?” 

Geneva raised an eyebrow, and pouted before shrugging her shoulders. 

“Too bad,” she sniffed. “We could have had a lot of fun, you and I. If you ever change your mind, you know where to find me.” With that, she turned and walked away, her stilettos clicking on the floor as she went. 

  
  


*****

**Four years later**

It had been a difficult year for Jamie. Everything that could have gone wrong did. His dissertation research had led him down several rabbit holes leading only to dead ends, which forced him to revise his topic several times. He’d had a major computer catastrophe that resulted in the loss of two months’ worth of work. On top of that, his adviser had been forced to retire early due to a heart attack that nearly killed him, leaving Jamie to scramble for someone new in mid-year. As a result, he was behind. Far, _far_ behind where he should be. He wasn’t anywhere near ready to defend his dissertation to the committee. He needed at least another semester. Better yet, another year.

On top of all that, his funding would run out at the end of August. If he didn’t secure more, he’d have to go into debt for the tuition and work a job to pay his rent and feed himself, which meant that he would take even longer to finish. Most funding organizations wouldn’t even consider him as a candidate since he was looking for an extension, not starting out new in the program. Even the Dunsaney Foundation had no-extension policies for their grants, and had sent him their standard form letter telling him so. 

The last thing he needed was to end up stuck working a menial job for two years while struggling to finish. 

But there was one possibility, he realized. 

It would be embarrassing. Humiliating, even. But stacked up against the thought of waiting two more years before he got his Ph.D., he decided it was a price he was willing to pay. 

He texted Geneva. 

They met in the same coffee shop as before. After paying for their lattes, he led her to a corner table where their conversation wouldn’t be overheard. 

“So, to what do I owe this great honor?” she asked, dragging a manicured nail slowly around the rim of her cup.

Jamie took a deep breath. It was now or never. “I wanted to apologize for how rude I was to ye the last time we met. I was verra stressed at the time, and I didna mean to insult ye.” 

She looked at him skeptically, one eyebrow raised, not challenging him. 

They made small talk for several minutes while Jamie nervously sipped his coffee and tried to be as friendly as possible. There was an awkward pause as he tried to think of what to say next. 

Geneva narrowed her eyes. “Somehow I think there’s another reason you texted me.” Leaning back in her chair, she wagered, “Let me guess. You need money.” 

“Aye, I do.” He fingered his coffee cup nervously. “I was hoping that I could…persuade ye…to, um…put in a word with the foundation. I’d be willing to…uh…to date ye, to…you know…” His gaze met hers, and he quirked an eyebrow ever so slightly. 

Her eyes widened, and a shit-eating grin spread over her face. “Are you actually offering to sleep with me in order to get your funding extended?” 

Jamie shifted his in his seat uncomfortably, dropping his gaze to the tabletop. “Aye.” 

“God,” she replied, choking out a laugh, “that I should live to hear such an offer!” 

“Do ye no’ want me, then?” 

“Oh, _hell_ _yes_ I want you. My own personal Scottish man-whore. I love it.” She tipped her head back, looking down her elegant nose. “How much do you need? A semester? Two?”

“I can make do with one more semester.” Jamie didn’t want to drag this out any longer than necessary. Come hell or high water, he would finish in _one_ semester. 

“Done. I’ll set it up tomorrow,” she replied with a wave of her hand. “I have a boyfriend now, so I don’t really want to _date_ you, but what Brad doesn’t know won’t hurt him. We’ll just have some fun. Once a week, for the semester. Is that a fair bargain?” 

He swallowed against a dry throat, nodding tersely. “Aye.” 

Geneva’s smirk widened as she eyed him like the cat who got the cream. “Oh, this _is_ going to be so much fun!” 

And so it was that every Tuesday afternoon for the duration of the 2012 fall semester at Boston University, Jamie would go to her apartment, condoms in his pocket, and do whatever she wanted him to do. 

He told himself it was work like any other — well paid, and worth the cost to his dignity. 

He told himself that it wasn’t so different from being a stripper, something that a fellow graduate student had done to fund her studies. He’d never thought any less of her because of it. 

He told himself that it was only a couple hours a week, and only for a few months. 

For a while, it worked. 

September and October were okay. Though he was always eager for a shower afterward, he did what he had to do, while putting in more hours on his research than he ever had before. 

By November, it had gotten a bit more difficult, and he found that he was dreading Tuesdays. Thankfully, he was still able to perform; he’d been terrified that his anatomy would fail him. It helped to keep his eyes closed and imagine his ex, Analise, in her place. 

But by the time December arrived and he was headed home to Scotland after _finally_ defending his dissertation, Jamie was consumed with regret. HIndsight was 20/20, and he wished he’d taken a job waiting tables instead of selling himself to her, of all people. If it had been anyone else, he might have felt differently — but then again, anyone else probably wouldn’t have accepted his offer and held him to it every single week. Even if it had taken an extra year to complete his work, it would have been better than living with the constant sense that he’d dishonored the memory of his parents somehow. In his head, he knew it wasn’t exactly rational to believe that, but his heart had other ideas. 

He hadn’t been to church in years, but found himself in the confessional at the cathedral in Inverness, pouring out his remorse to the priest. He said hundreds of Hail Marys and Our Fathers, knelt in the pew until his knees ached, and spent countless hours in the sanctuary, overwhelmed with guilt. His sister wondered what was wrong and pestered him regularly on the subject, but he kept silent. He would _never_ tell her. 

He would never tell anyone. 

*****

In the years that followed, Jamie would rarely date, and when he did, he saw the woman only a time or two, never allowing the relationship to progress to the physical. He went to a therapist for a while, who told him that he needed to forgive himself, to let it go, that he deserved love as much as the next person, that he had nothing to be ashamed of… He tried, but it had never worked. He’d convinced himself that God was punishing him, and that his situation was hopeless. He would never be happy, never find love. Never have a family of his own. Instead, he poured himself into his career, his students, and tried not to focus on what was missing from his life. 

Then he met Claire, and it was as though the sun had come out on a cloudy day. His world was lighter, brighter, more vibrant. He was alive again. He was completely, utterly in love with her, and over the moon that she returned his love. Not only that, he was moving in with her. It had seemed that the past truly was over and done with, and he would finally have the happiness that had eluded him for so many years. 

But now? He would do anything to keep Claire. Anything. 

Maybe Geneva had grown up. Moved on. She’d gotten married, hadn’t she? Maybe she was a different person. But even as he tried to convince himself that perhaps she had changed, deep in his heart he knew none of it was true. The way she had looked at him in the board meeting left no doubt that she was the same person she had always been.

In the few days since he had seen her at the meeting, Jamie had felt physically sick. He had barely eaten; food made him nauseated. He had barely slept, spending his nights staring at the ceiling of his apartment. Most of all, he had barely been able to look at Claire. His heart ached with regret; his guilt threatened to consume him, devour him. 

How could he ever face her again? 

He would have to tell her himself and take his chances. It would be better than her finding out any other way. He knew that. A tiny part of him wanted to believe that Claire would understand, that everything would be okay after all. He wasn’t ready to take the chance. Maybe he could hold off just a little while longer…maybe he could have just a tiny bit more happiness. 

Maybe he should quietly search for another apartment. Just in case...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well now, I know that was quite a ride. Take a deep breath, everyone! I hope you liked the canon flip. It was a risk, I know, but one I decided to take to do something a wee bit different with this particular story line. More unexpected twists are on the horizon. I hope to be able to surprise you at least once or twice this semester! 
> 
> Jamie made a mistake! A big one. But who among us hasn't ever made a mistake and regretted it later? I want him to be human, even as we adore him for the King of Men that he is. I think we all still love him anyway. I know I still do. 
> 
> Note for readers outside the US: Financing for graduate school in the US depends a lot on the field of study. If one is studying the sciences, it's common to get a job as a teaching or research assistant at the university to cover tuition. There is also usually a stipend for living expenses. Often, undergraduate labs are all taught by grad students. However, for the arts, humanities, and social sciences, such positions are much more rare. A few scholarships are available (full or partial) but they are often highly competitive and don't normally cover living expenses. Since Jamie is in the humanities, he would be charged tuition unless he had some source of funding, and have to pay for his living expenses. For purposes of the story, the Dunsaney Foundation is a verra generous funding source, which wouldn't be nearly so generous in real life, but, you know... plot reasons.


	49. Visiting the Vet: January 19, 2021

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A wee visit to the vet for Adso in this mini midweek chapter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whew! After the last chapter, I think we need a wee break before we dive back in on Friday. I welcome all comments except hateful ones directed toward Sam or Cait. Those will be immediately deleted. Other than that, just be kind to each other. Discuss to your hearts' content. 
> 
> That being said, several of you were very upset at my take on the Jamie/Geneva story line. For some of you, it may be a bridge too far. If this is the case, I wish you well and thank you for reading as long and as much as you did. This is an OL fic. Jamie and Claire will be together. How could it be otherwise? But I do hope you'll give it a chance and see how things develop into the spring. More will be revealed on Friday. 
> 
> Like all minis, this chapter is un-betaed. So any grammatical disasters are my own damn fault.

[ ](https://ibb.co/v1rBYDj)

“Hush, kitty. Just one more…” The vet gently shushed the wee kitten who was meowing furiously and determined to scramble away before he could get his final shot. A moment later, the deed was done, and she looked up at Jamie and Claire. 

They had dropped off Adso at the clinic for a some tests and most importantly, a bath, the day before. Neither Jamie nor Claire felt competent to attempt such a thing, and the vet assured them that the wee feline would be sedated for it, along with a teeth cleaning. 

“This little one is lucky that the two of you found him.” She glanced up at Jamie and Claire. “From the state of him, he wouldn’t have survived much longer out there. His paws were badly frostbitten, and his tail sustained some damage too, but I’m fairly certain that everything will heal. The damage to the tissue doesn’t appear permanent, thankfully.”

Jamie leaned over, stroking Adso behind the ears and crooning to him in Gaelic. “Och, ye puir wee cheetie. Do ye have any idea how old he is?” He looked up at the vet. 

“We think maybe five or six months based on his teeth, but of course we can’t be completely certain. He’s thin, but he’ll fill out now that he has a home.”

Claire’s heart had warmed even more to the tiny creature in the days since they’d taken him in, and she picked him up from the exam table, wrapping him in her arms and kissing the top of his head.

“He tested negative for feline leukemia. He did have worms like most strays do, but we treated him for that. Heaven knows what he survived on out there. He did what he had to do to get by, poor thing,” the vet continued. 

Claire caught a glimpse of Jamie who pursed his lips and inhaled at the vet’s words. He had been acting strangely for the past week. Distant, distracted…she caught him more than once staring at her with the most heartbreakingly melancholy look on his face, only to quickly glance away or plaster on a smile when she would catch his eye. Something in him had shifted since the semester started. On the surface, he was as attentive and loving as ever, but it seemed to Claire that there was a sadness in his eyes now that she couldn’t explain. If it didn’t pass, she would have to confront him about it. In the meantime, she returned her attention to the wiggly ball of fluff in her arms who seemed determined to use his needle-like claws to draw blood as he tried to climb up onto her shoulder. 

“Any idea where he came from?” Claire asked. 

“Well,” the vet speculated, “obviously, we can’t know for sure. My best guess is that he was someone’s barn cat who got very lost when he was out in the snow. Sometimes people will keep cats in their outbuildings. They’re not exactly pets, but they’re not feral either. That would fit his behavior. He was both afraid of you and yet still drawn to humans for food. The other, less pleasant option is that someone abandoned him. I doubt he was a pampered pet. If someone had been missing a favorite house cat, it would have been publicized. Somebody would have been actively searching. The Adirondacks might be large in area, but the year-round residents are a community."

“Oh, sweetheart,” Claire crooned as she stroked Adso’s back, holding him close. “You’re safe now. You have a home. It’s okay.” She looked up, meeting Jamie’s eyes. Smiling weakly, he took a deep breath and turned back to the vet.

“So, are we good to go?” 

“Yes, for now. You can schedule his appointment to be neutered on your way out.” 

Jamie nodded. 

“And congratulations to both of you! You’re both now parents of this adorable little fur baby!”

They drove back to Claire’s apartment, talking about Adso and speculating more on where he had come from. Unlocking the apartment door, Claire stepped in. Jamie followed, shutting the door behind him, then reached down to open Adso’s carrier.

“Are ye sure ye’re okay to keep him here?” he asked. 

“Of course. You’ll be here soon enough, and we’re becoming best friends, aren’t we, Adso?” Claire cast a glance at the kitten, who was sitting on the couch casually grooming a paw.

“I need to get back to the office.” Jamie explained, running his fingers through his hair. “I have a lot yet to do today.” 

Claire wrapped her arms around his waist, as he instinctively pulled her into an embrace, planting a kiss on the top of her head. 

“We’re still good for Friday?” she asked, tipping her head back to look up at him. “Dinner here?”

“Aye,” he answered, squeezing her tighter as he buried his face in her curls. “I love ye, Claire…so much.”

“I love you, too.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Obviously, this is part 2 of Icicle's story. He did have frostbitten paws and a frozen tail! Puir cheetie! 
> 
> And of course, spay and neuter your pets!!


	50. Clearing the Air: January 22, 2021

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jamie confesses his past to Claire.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, thank you all for reading! Are we ready to plunge in? 
> 
> As with last week, not everyone will approve of the choices I've made in this chapter, and that's okay. Dinna fash. The spring will unfold in ways that you probably can't imagine right now. There will be likely a few twists and turns that will play out in not so obvious ways. I invite you along for the ride. 
> 
> But, I'll say it again... if the twist of last week, along with this chapter is a bridge too far for you, I wish you well. Go in peace. Not every fic suits every reader, and that's okay. I welcome diverse opinions and thoughts in the comments, but I ask you to be kind and respectful to each other and to me. Also, please understand that I won't be changing any major plot points just because a reader might not like where I've gone. There's no point in telling me that I must do this or that. If you have strong ideas about a story, I invite you to create your own! It's great fun. 
> 
> As always, any abusive comments directed at Sam or Cait will be immediately deleted without response.
> 
> Thank you to my beta for this chapter, Danielle aka Smashingteacups. Sorry that I’m a wee bit late with the acknowledgment this time!

[ ](https://ibb.co/jJ0f8gV)

Jamie hadn’t eaten since the night before. Somehow, he had managed to stumble through his workday in a daze, feeling weirdly disconnected, as though his body were at the office, with his mind and soul otherwise occupied. Although he’d always intended to tell her eventually, he realized that vague good intentions were a feeble excuse for his procrastination. 

But when would have been a good time? When they first met? Before they slept together? He’d been tested for STIs long ago, after that fateful semester, and hadn’t been with anyone since; he knew he was clean. When else? Her birthday? At the cabin? 

No. There would _never_ be a good time for this particular conversation. 

It had to be now, he realized. To drag it out any longer would only make things worse. If she wanted to break up, it was better to do it before he moved in. He took a deep breath and knocked on her door. Hearing her call to him from inside, he opened the door and stepped in.

After Claire wiped her hands on a dishtowel, she looked up and saw him. “What is it?” She moved immediately to stand in front of him, both hands stroking up and down his biceps, looking up at him with an expression full of concern. 

“We need to talk.” 

They sat down on the couch, and Claire took his hand, bringing it to her lips and planting a brief kiss on his knuckles. He responded with the tiniest of smiles, then began to speak. 

“I need ye to listen wi’ all yer heart…just listen, Claire.” 

Claire nodded, her brow furrowing. He could see a glimmer of fear in her eyes, and it pained him.

After taking a deep breath, he started at the beginning: his application to graduate school, his acceptance, the search for funding through various foundations and institutions, then finally his relief at securing the Dunsaney Foundation grant. The story came out in torrents—his early encounters with Geneva, the men’s room incident, and then his horrible fourth year. 

“Ye see, as an international student,” he pleaded, “I couldna get any government loans. I didna have my green card yet. I tried to apply for private loans, but no bank wanted to take a chance on a Scottish student of linguistics. University department funds were tapped out too.” 

He took a deep breath, thinking of his family. “Da had barely been gone a year. After he passed, we discovered that the farm was nearly bankrupt. Jenny and Ian were struggling too since they’d taken it over. I couldna ask them for help.” 

He paused, shifting in his seat, staring at their hands still entwined on the couch. 

“And ye ken how expensive Boston is. Rents through the roof…I’d have had to work full time just to have a room, much less an apartment. I might no’ have finished. At least not for years. Maybe no’ ever…” His voice trailed off, ragged. A single tear slipped down his cheek.

“So what did you do?” 

“What did I do? I sold my soul.” A second tear followed, and a third. Jamie broke their connection, letting go of her hands to stand up. Pacing the floor for a few moments, he finally stopped, stretching his arms out to grab onto the door frame to the kitchen with both hands. His head hung down in despair as though his back was being lashed by an invisible whip, utterly broken and bleeding.

He told her then—every last dreadful bit of it, right up until the moment he laid eyes on Geneva at the board meeting—then fell silent. He waited in agony, still holding on to the door frame, unable to face her, tears streaming down his face.

“Why didn’t you tell me this before?” she asked, her voice flat.

“Why?” He spun around, his face wrenched with pain. “Because I am a coward. That’s why.” 

Sitting down on the chair opposite her, he grabbed a tissue and wiped his eyes. As he held his head in his hands and stared at the floor, he went on. “Do ye have any idea what it’s like to live so many years wi’out a heart? To live as half a man and accustom yerself to exist in the bit that’s left? To know that ye can never go back and undo the past no matter how much ye might wish to do so? To know that ye’re the worst sort of person? That ye chose to be that way? No one held a gun to my head, Claire. I hated myself for it at the time. I still do…” 

He looked up, his eyes red. “And then to find you? To fall in love? Something I never thought would happen? I didna tell ye for fear I’d lose ye. Christ, I couldna even bear the thought. And when ye told me that ye loved me back, it was as though this… this burden that I’d carried all those years was finally being lifted…like God had finally forgiven me. But now…” 

Jamie’s voice faded and he found he couldn’t speak any more; his throat constricted as he gasped for air. He finally broke down as his body gave over to the grief that was flooding his soul. Wracked with pain, his shoulders convulsed as he wept. Looking up, he saw Claire still sitting on the couch, leaning forward with her chin resting on her folded hands, staring into the distance. 

“Do ye think ye might ever be able to forgive me…in time?” he rasped, his face blotchy and damp. 

“No.” 

The word felt like a gut punch, shattering him even more that he’d thought possible, ending his life as he knew it. 

Claire turned her gaze to him, holding him with her eyes as she stood and closed the distance between them. Kneeling down in front of him, she reached up and pushed an errant curl from his eyes before cupping his head in her hand and pulling his forehead to touch her own. With her other hand, she thumbed away a tear from his cheek.

“No, I can’t forgive you,” she continued, her voice shaking, “because I am not the person who was harmed by your choice. Whatever wrong that exists here wasn’t committed against me. It’s not my place to offer forgiveness for something that happened years before we even met.” 

Did he hear her right? He couldn’t be certain. His life, his heart, his hopes and dreams for their future together all teetered on the razor’s edge of her answer to the next question. 

“But how can ye no’ hate me for it?” he mumbled, looking back down towards the floor. 

“Was it a good decision? No. It was a stupid, foolish, horrible decision. I won’t pretend otherwise. Could you have worked things out another way? Maybe. Probably. But that doesn’t matter.” She stroked his hair, running her fingers through the auburn waves. “Clearly, _you_ didn’t think you had a choice at the time. You felt desperate and trapped.”

His breath hitched, and he nodded slightly. “Aye,” he whispered. 

“Your career was on the line,” she went on, “everything you’d spent years working so hard for…I know what that’s like. I know the fourteen hour days for years on end, the sleepless nights, surviving on canned soup and peanut butter sandwiches in a run-down dump of an apartment—I’ve lived it! I was a lab assistant, but that wasn’t exactly an option for you, was it? Nobody dissects frogs for a living in the linguistics department.” 

Hearing that, he couldn’t help but choke out a laugh. 

“Do you really think so little of me that you’d truly believe I would toss you to the curb because you did a stupid thing back when you were a student?” 

Two fresh tears began to trace their way down his cheeks. 

“Do you really believe that I’d hate you for a mistake, even a horrific one, that you made years before you even knew my name? For God’s sake, Jamie, you slept with her, you didn’t _murder_ her! You didn’t con her out of her life savings!” She leaned up, kissing away one of the tears, then wrapped her arms around him, pulling him into a bear hug as he wept silently. 

“You listen to me, James Fraser,” she sputtered as tears of her own started to flow, “When we met, I was broken inside. I thought I was damaged goods—that there was something irreparably wrong with me—that no one would ever love me. I felt old, and ugly, and stupid after soaking up all the emotional garbage Frank threw at me over the years. It took all the courage I had to leave. I felt like an impostor at work…and with you too! I thought that any day, you’d wake up and realize that I wasn’t worth your trouble and run screaming away from me.” 

She pulled back, reaching up with a finger to lift his jaw, forcing him to look at her. 

“But you didn’t. You spent the whole fall semester picking up all the little broken pieces of me and helping me put them back together again. How could I ever, _ever_ hate a man who showed me so much compassion when I needed it the most? Jamie, I love you.” 

He inhaled sharply and his chin trembled as his lips slowly tipped into the tiniest of smiles. “Oh, God…oh, Claire…” 

Pulling her back into his arms, they both cried blubbering, sloppy tears, soaking each other’s shirts in the process. They held on desperately for several minutes, tears flowing as they both struggled to catch their breath. Finally, Claire leaned back. 

“So no, I can’t forgive you.” She shook her head. “The only one who can forgive you is _you_. You need to forgive yourself and finally let this go. The only person you’ve really wronged here is Jamie Fraser.” 

He nodded, then breathing out the ghost of a sigh, he admitted, “I’m no’ sure I know how to forgive myself.” 

“I think you should see a therapist again,” she suggested gently. “Maybe I could go with you and we could do this together. It might be easier that way. You helped me heal, Jamie. Let me do the same for you.” 

Incapable of speech in the moment, he silently nodded his agreement. Claire stood up, reaching out a hand to him. He followed suit, and they came together in a tender embrace, swaying slightly. 

After a few moments, he felt something rub against his ankle, and heard a tiny mew. Reaching down, he scooped Adso up and held him close in between them as Claire stroked under the kitten’s chin. 

“Adso,” he said, choking on a laugh, “do ye have any idea how wonderful yer mam is?” 

Unmoved by the sentiment, Adso began to squirm in his hands, and Jamie gently put him back down. 

“So what do we do now?” he breathed, feeling suddenly lighter, as though his body might defy gravity at any moment and suddenly float up to the ceiling. 

“Well, first we have some dinner,” Claire replied cheekily, “then we move you in, so Adso has his Da with him too.” 

Jamie smiled, full and genuine, for the first time in over a week. 

“Then we get you some help. And we’ll pick up all your broken pieces and put them—put _you_ —back together again. Just like you helped me do.” 

Pulling her back into his arms, he stroked her hair, and traced the delicate shell of her ear as he kissed her temple. “I didna think it was possible, Claire. I wake up every day and I find that I love ye more than I did the day before, but this… _God_ , I think my heart might just burst.” 

An hour later, well fed but emotionally wrung out and exhausted, they collapsed onto the couch and dozed off, spooning. A bit later, Jamie stirred, with Claire following soon after. 

“Ye dinna ken what this means to me, Claire,” he murmured, stroking circles on her shoulder. “To have the woman I love see the worst of me, and still love me anyway… it’s… _Christ_ , ye’d think wi’ as many languages as I know that I’d be able to find the words in one of them. But I canna. It’s…it’s deeper than words can express, I think.” 

“Soul deep.” 

“Aye.” 

  
  


*****

  
  


As his story spilled out, Claire was shocked and horrified. The actions he described were so completely out of character for the man she knew him to be. It was a jarringly surreal feeling, as though some other person had taken over his body and had hijacked his voice somehow. Feeling the need to ground herself, she pressed her toes into the floor, taking several deep breaths.

Looking up, and feeling a bit dazed, she asked the first question that came to her mind. “Why didn’t you tell me this before?” 

Then she saw it. The pain. The regret. The agonizing burden of carrying this secret that had gnawed at him for years. She saw it all—including his paralyzing fear of losing her. Did she really have such a hold over him? As he continued to explain, her initial shock gave way to a flood of empathy and compassion as she realized how deep his regrets ran; how much he had tortured himself over the years, to the point of being utterly irrational. 

It all made sense now — she recalled what Geillis had told her months ago about him never dating anyone since she’d known him. 

Now he was asking _her_ to forgive him? 

She would have given him the moon, but this— _forgiveness_ —wasn’t hers to give. He would have to find it within himself. She’d said so, then held him as his body shook so violently with sobs that he could barely speak. She’d wiped away his tears, and given him her own in return. 

Jamie needed her, and the truth of that need burrowed into her heart as he spoke. Never in her wildest dreams had she ever thought she’d be able to repay him for all the support he’d given her over the months that they had been together — to give back a fraction of what she’d been given as she worked to recover her sense of self-worth after her divorce.

But this was her opportunity. Jamie would never again have to carry his pain alone. He would never again _be_ alone if she had anything to say about it. 

They would heal. _Together._

Jamie had helped her realize that she was whole and lovable as she was, with all her imperfections and faults and mistakes. She didn’t have to be perfect to be worthy of love— she finally understood that now. And now it was her turn to help him accept that very same truth, and eventually forgive himself. 

Their tears spent, they ate their dinner quietly, each processing the revelations of the past hour, then curled up on the couch. Both briefly dozing off from the sheer exhaustion of it all, they stirred a half hour later. 

“…it’s deeper than words can express.” 

“Soul deep,” she replied, never in her life more sure of the truth of her words.

“Aye.” 

Claire realized that it would take time, and a lot of therapy sessions, for Jamie to forgive himself, even with her love and support. But in that moment, she realized that the process needed to start immediately. 

It would begin tonight. 

She could see that he felt tainted, marked somehow, as though his choice had left an indelible scar behind, branding him with a scarlet letter that would never go away. Some part of him felt owned by Geneva, in spite of the transactional nature of their past relationship. 

So Claire decided it was time to lay claim to what was hers.

Extracting herself from his arms, she stood up, briefly ducking out to the kitchen. Jamie sat up with a curious look as she returned, Sharpie marker in hand, and sat back down next to him. 

“You’re mine, James Fraser,” she declared. “Mine, and mine alone. That woman has no more hold over you—not ever again.” 

Uncapping the marker, she took Jamie’s left hand and turned it palm up. There, on the pad of flesh right below his thumb, she wrote a letter _“C.”_

“There,” she went on. “You’re mine, and no one else’s.”

A slow smile spread over Jamie’s face as he realized the symbolism of the act. Holding out his hand to reciprocate, he quirked an eyebrow at her expectantly. She handed over the marker, then he took her hand and wrote a _“J”_ of his own on her palm. 

“Ye’re mine, and no one else’s, _mo ghràidh_. Always.”

“Always.” 

Softly, gently, their lips touched. Claire’s tongue sought entrance to his mouth, and finding it, explored the softness there with a slow dance. Reaching down to take Jamie’s hand, she placed his palm on her breast. He kneaded it tenderly for a moment, then let go to thread his fingers through her hair, cupping her head in his large hand, holding her close. 

She released his mouth, then stood up. Taking him by the hand, she led him to her bedroom where she claimed him again—fully, thoroughly, completely. 

Afterward, they lay together, Claire’s head resting on Jamie’s chest, both of them feeling blissfully warm and satisfied. 

“Honestly, Jamie, I wouldn’t worry about her. What can she do except try to unnerve you? It’s not as though she would want the world to know what happened between the two of you. No one else knows anything about it. And you aren’t a struggling, desperate student anymore. She has nothing that you want or need.”

“Aye,” he replied as he toyed with her curls, twirling a strand. “Ye’re probably right.” 

“If you have to deal with her at meetings, use that poker face of yours. Complete indifference. You have plenty of allies on the board, especially now that Wiley and Fitzroy are gone. Cultivate them. Make her irrelevant.” 

Jamie rolled over onto his side, facing her. 

“I had no idea that scientists could be such canny politicians, Sassenach,” he crooned as his fingers danced over her pelvis. “Ye’re verra savvy. I’m lucky to have ye on my side.”

She tipped her head, raising an eyebrow and catching his gaze with her own as she promised again, “Always.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Note for show-only readers: In the books, when Claire returns to the 20th century through the stones, she and Jamie carve their initials into each other's palm with a knife. That was a rather bloody affair, so I thought a Sharpie might be a less messy take on this nod to the books. 
> 
> Now, obviously we aren't quite done with Geneva. Again, I invite you to stick with it and see where the story goes. And again, if you can't, I wish you well. Perhaps our virtual paths will cross again. Peace. 
> 
> For those still here, I don't think that Claire is diminished in any way by how she handled this situation. While it is true that society would not judge a woman kindly in Jamie's place, to me the answer is not to heap ever more contempt on Jamie, but rather offer more kindness and compassion to women, along with less harsh judgement of their choices. Two wrongs don't make a right. Responding to society's vitriol and judgement with ever more vitriol and judgement doesn't move society to a better place. 
> 
> It also does not mean, in my opinion, that Claire has no self-respect. Clearly, she has recovered a lot of her self-esteem and self-respect, as well as self-compassion in the years since her divorce. Much of it was hard-won on her own, but a lot also came through her growing relationship to Jamie too. It is from this place of inner strength that she can extend grace to Jamie. 
> 
> Does this disqualify him from leading the college? I don't think so. A college president has far more to do with administrative duties and governance than direct contact with students. If anything, I think it may cause him to have more empathy and compassion for students. It would be very different if he was not as self-aware as he clearly is. He is so self-loathing precisely because he has a strong sense of ethics and his own actions have deeply violated his principles. Again, your mileage may vary, and that's fine. 
> 
> Does it mean he feels his PhD is tainted? Clearly, he feels at the moment that his entire life is tainted. Hopefully, he can disentangle this in therapy. 
> 
> Your thoughts on the matter may be entirely different from mine, but hopefully if they do, we can simply agree to disagree. Feel free to share them in any case.


	51. What Remains Unspoken: January 26, 2021

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some conversation at the coffee shop. Some hints at what the future holds.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter, as all minis is un-betaed, so grammatical catastrophes are all my own.

[ ](https://ibb.co/chJWLHt)

Mrs. Fitz’s Coffee Shop: 

  
_“Jesus,_ Hal…” John Grey leaned back in his chair, tapping his fingers nervously on the table. “You’re sure about this?”

“I’m certain,” Hal replied. “It’s far bigger than we thought.”

“Does Colum know?” 

After sipping the last of his cappuccino absentmindedly, Hal mused, “Not yet. I want to find out more before I tell him. We’ll talk soon, I’m sure.”

“She’s on the board now! Don’t you think he should know?” John tried to keep the anger from seeping into his voice. It was always this way with his brother—treating potentially life-changing news as though it were nothing more than the weather forecast.

Hal shrugged. “He will before long. The next board meeting isn’t for a few weeks yet. She can’t do much harm before then, even if she does intend to involve the college. And we’re not sure that she will…”

“Of course she intends to involve the college! From the sounds of it, that’s the whole reason Clarence recruited her.”

“You have a point there…they are thick as thieves. Literally.” He chuckled at his own wit.

“What about Jamie? Shouldn’t he be kept in the loop too? He’s taking over officially in August, but Colum is already working with him on the transition.” John tried to keep his voice level. In spite of his long-term relationship with Hector, he’d always had feelings for Jamie that had never completely dissipated.

Hal raised a knowing eyebrow at his brother. “Ah yes, Jamie. Of course, you’re always very concerned for _Jamie_.”

As he clenched his jaw, John willed himself to stay calm. “He’s the incoming president of Leoch. Don’t you think he ought to know about a federal investigation of two of his board members?”

A bell rang as the door opened and a couple walked in, laughing together.

“Speak of the devil…” Hal nodded toward the pastry counter where Jamie and Claire were unbuttoning their coats and perusing the day’s offerings. “Keep it to yourself for now. We’ll talk more later, John. I’m sure you want to say hello.” He stood and began to gather his dishes before slipping into his coat to leave. On his way out, he briefly nodded to Jamie before heading out into the cold, leaving John staring after him. 

John looked down at his now cold coffee. There was no way he intended to keep something this big from his best friend for very long, but for now, he would honor Hal’s request to stay silent. He plastered a smile on his face and stood up to greet Jamie and Claire.

*****

“John!” Jamie beamed at his friend. “Good to see ye, man! It’s been a minute.” He slapped John on the shoulder.

“Good to see you too,” John responded, smiling back at him. “How was your break? I haven’t seen you since the semester started.”

Jamie put his arm around Claire’s waist, turning her toward John after she finished her order. “Fantastic. We were up at Murtagh’s cabin the whole time. It was so great to get away. We both needed it.”

“Hello, John,” Claire said, reaching over to pull him into a brief, polite hug.

“Claire…”

“Jamie, we really should catch up. Maybe lunch at the bistro? How does your schedule look?”

“I dinna have my planner wi’ me. I’ll text ye and we’ll set something up soon, before the semester gets too crazy.”

“Sounds good.” He reached out to shake Jamie’s hand. “I’ll leave you two to your coffee. Nice to see you, Claire.”

Claire nodded as John cast a quick smile at the two of them before buttoning his coat to leave. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If any of you aren't on Twitter, I would still invite you to come on over for a wee moment to https://twitter.com/Avg_OL_fangirl 
> 
> Just cut and paste if it doesn't link from here. I canna talk about what's there without getting into trouble with the AO3 powers that be, but I will say just visit me there for a wee while.
> 
> And I invite you to follow me on Twitter if you're there.


	52. Moving Day: January 30, 2021

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jamie moves in to Claire's apartment.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to my beta for this chapter, Danielle (aka Smashingteacups) who knows how to make the words do the things. 
> 
> It's a wee bit cold in Leoch today (16 F/ -9 C) but these two lovebirds dinna care. My real world weather reference city for the fictional Leoch in this AU is Syracuse NY.

[ ](https://ibb.co/9n3wjjr)

Although he shivered in the dry, frigid air as he carried box after box out of his apartment, Jamie was jubilant. He’d slept every night at Claire’s over the past week, but the move wasn’t truly official until he turned in his keys and hauled the very last box out of the place he’d lived for years. 

“I can’t believe you don’t have more furniture.” Claire reached into the back of Jamie’s SUV to load up a box. “How can you not own any furniture beyond some bookcases?” 

“Ye should be happy, Sassenach,” Jamie laughed. “We dinna need a moving van. I guess I’m a typical bachelor. I didna think about it all that much. This place was furnished, and it never really occurred to me to buy anything else.” 

“As long as you’re okay being surrounded by my things...will it feel like home to you?” 

Jamie put down the box he was carrying and swept her into his embrace, nuzzling his cold nose into her curls. “ _You_ are my home, Claire. Nothing else matters.”

She threaded her arms under his jacket and around his back, drawing him in closer, pressing her face against his chest. After a moment, she pulled back, turning her face up to his and meeting his gaze with a cheeky grin. Her face was flushed with the cold, but she had never looked more beautiful. 

“That may be true my love,” she replied, “but we’ll at least have to buy you a desk. I don’t think you’ll want to sit on the floor to grade all those Intro Gaelic exams.”

“Aye,” Jamie chuckled. He still couldn’t quite believe that this was actually happening, given his revelation a week earlier. He had spent the days since then floating on a cloud, both astonished and ecstatic at her response to learning his deepest shame. And yet, here they were.

As they packed the third load of boxes into his SUV, his thoughts drifted to the future. With Colum’s departure, he would be moving into the president’s house on campus in August. Would she consider coming with him? In what capacity? Girlfriend? Roommate? 

_Wife?_

He’d known for a while now that he wanted to marry Claire, but it had always seemed to be a rather inchoate dream, foggy and unfinished. Something that would hopefully happen _someday_. 

But now? After their time at the cabin and the deepening of their bond since last week, it was becoming more than a dream to him. The idea had taken on a solidity, a substance, that it had lacked before. And with the presidency pending, it had taken on an urgency as well. He realized that he wanted her there with him not as his girlfriend, but as his wife—the First Lady of Leoch. He smiled to himself at the idea. 

Of course, a thousand questions followed on the heels of his epiphany. Did she even _want_ to marry again? When would he ask? How? Maybe spring break? He hadn’t even discussed that with her yet… Sooner? Valentine’s Day? Or later into the spring? 

Jamie sighed, shaking his head. These were questions for another day. Right now, he had boxes to move. 

“Helloooo…Dr. Fraser? Come back to earth, please.” Claire was waving a hand in front of his face, trying to keep from laughing at him. “This bag of clothes—did you mean it to come with the rest, or was this the one you wanted to donate?” 

“Och…sorry. I was somewhere else in my mind.” 

“Obviously.” 

He looked at her, imagining putting a ring on her finger… then briefly shook his head, blinking, trying to come back to the here and now. 

“I… um…yes, the bag. Ye’re right. That’s the batch to donate. There’s a donation bin a few blocks down. We can toss it in there on the way.” 

A half dozen trips later, it was finally done. Jamie handed back his keys, and they headed _home_ —together. He was practically giddy at the thought of it. He would need to figure out how and when to propose to Claire, but more urgent than that was the question of spring break. As he pulled away from his now former apartment, he decided to ask. 

“How would ye like to go to Scotland with me for spring break, Sassenach? I didna get there for the holidays since we were at the cabin, and I’d love for ye to meet my sister and her family. They’re really the only family I have left now. We could stay at the farm.”

Claire flashed him a wide smile. “I’d love to, Jamie.” 

“Then I’ll book our tickets next week. Scotland isn’t exactly a spring break hotspot, but sometimes the flights do fill up. Ye’ll never guess what the name of the farm is.” He suppressed a smile, trying not to give it away. 

“No idea. Frisky Sheep Estate? Whisky Acres? Haggis Heaven?” She giggled. “Do tell.”

“It’s Lallybroch.” 

Claire’s jaw dropped, and she slapped him on the thigh as he drove. “What? You’re kidding? You mean like our office building? How in the world?” 

“Aye, just like our office building.” Jamie laughed aloud at her amusement. “It means ‘lazy tower’ which, on the farm, refers to an ancient round tower on the property that leans a bit—Broch Tuarach. I dinna ken who named our office building. I tried to research it once, but came up empty. No records still exist for who named it or why. It’s one of the older buildings—from the 1800s, so who knows? It’s a campus mystery. The question is, does it refer to the faculty or the students?” 

“I don’t know, Jamie… maybe either? Or both?” She laughed again. _Christ,_ he could listen to that sound forever. 

He reached over with one hand to take hers, squeezing it a little, shifting the mood in the vehicle. 

“I want ye to know that I couldna be happier, Claire. To wake up with ye every morning…and come home to ye every night…” He blinked, trying to hold back the moisture gathering in the corners of his eyes. “It’s a dream come true.” 

“It is for me too,” she murmured, a softness creeping into her voice as she gazed out the window into the distance. “I didn’t think I’d ever share a home with anyone again.” Turning back to him, she threaded her fingers through his. 

Once again, Jamie’s thoughts wandered. She hadn’t thought she’d ever share a home again—and yet here she was. Perhaps even if she didn’t think she’d ever marry again…

  
  


*****

Three hours later, Claire found herself sitting on the floor in the spare bedroom, holding a board in place for Jamie as they attempted to assemble a desk they’d picked up at Ikea. 

“How many Ph.D.’s does it take to assemble a desk?” she mumbled.

“I dinna ken. How many?”

Claire laughed, trying to hold her hands steady on the wood. “I wasn’t making a joke. It was a serious question! Whenever I try to put one of these things together, I always end up with extra screws or bolts. I know they sometimes pack them that way, but I always feel like I’m missing something and the whole thing is going to fall apart.” 

“Och, dinna fash. It’s not so bad. I’ve almost got this. Just one more… _there._ Done.” Jamie looked up, a triumphant smirk spreading across his face. “I know there’s still a lot to unpack, but I think we deserve a wee break for doing such a braw job on the desk.” He quirked an eyebrow. 

“What did you have in mind?” Claire purred, her voice soft as velvet as she crawled around the desk on all fours to where Jamie was sitting. 

“Hmmm…” He reached around her waist as she maneuvered herself next to him, pulling her close as he laid her down on the floor. Leaning over her, hovering a few inches from her face, he continued, “We did so well assembling the desk, I thought we might just keep going, ye ken. Inserting Part A into Part B. Making sure everything has a proper tight fit.” Closing the gap between them, he kissed her, soft and sweet, his breath warm on her lips. She felt him smile as her tongue skimmed over his teeth. 

“Fitting things properly is very important,” she murmured as his lips ghosted over hers again. 

“Indeed it is.” He slipped a large hand down the front of her sweatpants, curving his fingers under her knickers. “This seems like a particularly tight spot…maybe needing a wee bit of attention. What do ye think?” 

Claire arched her back, pressing her mound into his hand, letting out a groan as she did. “Oh yes… _that_ definitely needs attention.” 

His fingers went about their task, circling gently at first, then pressing more firmly as he picked up the pace. Claire let out a string of incoherent noises as she began to buck her hips against him. 

“I want you inside me,” she begged, opening her eyes to look up at him.

“No, _mo nighean donn_ ,” Jamie murmured softly. “I want to watch you.” 

Claire gasped as he began what he knew to be her favorite motion as he stroked her. As she looked up at him with her mind spinning and her body teetering on the cusp of oblivion, he held her gaze, a wide smile spreading over his face. A moment later, she tipped over the edge, gasping for oxygen as waves of pleasure shimmered through every cell of her body. Riding out the final spasms, Claire reached her hand up, threading it through Jamie’s auburn curls, pulling him down into a deep, thorough kiss. 

“Your turn,” she growled, pressing her hips toward the hardness straining against the confines of his jeans. “You do realize that we have a perfectly good bed only a few steps from here?” 

“I canna wait. I must have ye here…now.” Jamie made quick work of ridding himself of the surplus of clothing, tossing it aside and scaring Adso in the process, who had recently come in to inspect their efforts on the desk. Claire followed suit, slipping out of her t-shirt and sweats as the kitten ran off back to the living room. 

A heartbeat later, she welcomed him home, wrapping her legs around his thighs to pull him closer. Desire, desperate and urgent, overtook them both as his lips crashed into hers, fierce with want. Their tongues each sought dominance as he thrust into her over and over. Feeling her own frantic need rise again, Claire pushed his shoulders and flipped him over onto his back, never breaking their union as she did. 

Rising up, she rode him hard and fast. Instinctively knowing he was close, she reached down with her own hand to finish herself, and contracted around him as she once again found her peak. Jamie followed seconds after her, crying out. Moments later, Claire collapsed onto the floor next to him, gasping for air. He shifted a bit, rolling over on his side, wincing as he did.

“I should have listened to ye about that perfectly good bed, Sassenach. I think I’ve got a wee bit of carpet burn.” 

Claire couldn’t help but laugh, her eyes twinkling with delight. “Me too, I think. It’s the knees.”

“Aye, the knees…and the arse.” 

Hearing a mew from the doorway, they both looked up at the same time to see Adso tentatively enter the room, pausing to sniff at their discarded clothing along the way. Stepping closer, he nuzzled Jamie’s arm, positioning himself between his two humans. 

Claire looked up to see Jamie’s eyes soften as he turned his attention to the kitten. 

“With the cheetie here, it feels like we have a wee family—the three of us.” 

Claire glanced back at him, a smile plastered on her face, but her heart sank a tiny bit at his words. 

When the kitten mewed again, more urgently this time, Jamie moved to stand up. “C’mon, Adso. Let’s get ye some dinner, ye wee hungry thing.” 

She watched as he scooped the tiny cat into his arms and planted a kiss on the furry head before walking, stark naked, to the kitchen, leaving Claire to her thoughts. 

_Family…_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry to make you wait a day from our usual Friday post, but it really didn't seem very nice to make Jamie and Claire haul boxes after a long day at work. 
> 
> In case ye missed it last week, I invite ye to make a wee trip over to Twitter (even if you're not a regular there) and visit me. I can tell ye things there that I canna tell ye here. Cut and paste this wee link- https://twitter.com/Avg_OL_fangirl/status/1352795355017072640 
> 
> If ye already did this last week, thanks!!


	53. His and Hers: February 2, 2021

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jamie and Claire each ponder their future on this snowy afternoon.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> FYI, moving forward in the story, there will be talk of infertility and IVF. If this touches a tender place in your heart, know that I hold you in my thoughts with compassion. 
> 
> As with all all wee midweek chapters, this one is un-betaed, so any and all oopsies are my own. 
> 
> It is a verra wintry day on the east coast of the US, with a large storm moving up the coast, and that extends to our fictional town as well!

[ ](https://ibb.co/XSRQTKb)

It was late afternoon when, in spite of the very snowy day, Jamie found himself wandering the Main Street of the small college town of Leoch, bundled up against the cold. Like many in upstate New York, it had a few blocks of quaint downtown that were well maintained, with small businesses supported by local townsfolk in spite of the growth of online shopping. Claire had a lab to teach on Tuesday afternoons, and was going to the gym after that, so she wouldn’t be home for a while. He was done with work for the day, but it was too early to start cooking dinner, so here he was, window shopping in spite of the storm. Some of the businesses had closed early because of it, but he didn’t mind. It gave him the chance to think without being accosted by any over-eager salespeople. 

He stood stock still, gazing into the window display at Silkie’s, of one of two jewelry stores in Leoch. The window was decorated in a Valentine’s Day theme, with foil hearts and red ribbons in abundance, filled with an extensive display of engagement rings. What would she like? A solitaire? Or a stone surrounded by those wee diamonds? And the setting—white gold? Yellow? Rose gold was trendy, but he wasn’t sure he liked it. Round? Emerald cut? Oval? And what stone? All diamonds? Or something else? Maybe a sapphire? Or a ruby? _Christ_ …he had absolutely no idea. 

More importantly, was she ready for this? He knew _he_ was ready. If he'd followed only his own desires, he would have proposed to her months ago. There were many times in Jamie’s life when he had been confused, unclear as to what his next step should be, but _this_ was absolutely _not_ one of those times. Never in is life had he been so sure of what he wanted. It was only his concern about not pushing her too quickly that held him back. From their second date, he had known that she’d been badly hurt by her first marriage. Since then, little details had trickled out in the course of everyday conversation, a steady drip-drip that filled in his understanding of just how bad things had been. 

And now? They were living together, and she was going to his therapy appointments with him, committed to helping him heal the damage from his own horrible mistake. If he asked, would she accept? Both his heart and his gut told him that yes, she would. He took out his phone and snapped a few pictures of rings he liked in the window, then trudged off, head down against the wind, to the other jewelry store to have a look in their windows. 

  
*****

  
Claire stepped onto the treadmill and punched a few buttons. The machine stirred to life, and she began her jog. The place was only a quarter-full—no one she knew, thankfully. The storm had kept some people away. She preferred it that way. Jamie simply worked out for free at the college gym, surrounded by student athletes training for their various sports, but she was never comfortable there, never having quite gotten used to the idea of her students seeing her in her leggings and sports bra, sweating like a pig. No, she much preferred the private gym, even if she had to pay for it. 

As her pace picked up, her mind began to wander—to Jamie, of course. She smiled to herself as she ran. That man…that wonderful, kind, loving, goofball of a man. He made her laugh like no one else could. He cared for her like no one else ever had. And he coaxed sensations from her body that she hadn’t even known were possible.

Recently, she had started to imagine being married to him. After she left Frank, she was convinced that she’d live out her days as the proverbial old maid. But now? There was a part of her that was afraid—marriage would surely ruin things. After all, hadn’t things gone to hell in a hand-basket when she married Frank? But another part of her realized that the signs had been there long before she said “I do.” She’d just turned a blind eye to them in her lonely, youthful desperation to be with someone…anyone. No, this was not like that at all; this was about as _different_ as it could possibly be. 

But what about children? She knew Jamie wanted a family, but she was 39 now, and she also knew that whatever issues she’d had with Frank on that front were obviously _her_ problem. At least that’s what he’d told her, over and over. They could adopt, but the thought of creating a new life with Jamie had burrowed its way into her heart in a way that she’d never known with anyone else. Claire had never considered herself to be very maternal, but lately her daydreams often were filled with thoughts of Jamie stroking her pregnant belly, or holding their baby in her arms. 

Was it really impossible? When Frank told her that his test was _fine_ , thank you very much, and the problem was _her_ , it wasn’t long after that she had decided to leave him, so she hadn’t pursued the matter further. It couldn’t hurt to at least see a doctor, she thought.

Her half-hour had gone quickly. She turned off the treadmill, wiped the sweat from her brow and stepped off, headed for the locker room. In the end, it was an easy decision. She would call for an appointment tomorrow with a gynecologist. She’s procrastinated about finding one since she’d moved to the area last summer, and realized she was due for a checkup anyway. For now, she wouldn’t broach the subject with Jamie. She’d always been grateful that he hadn’t pressed her for explanations when she told him early on that they didn’t need condoms. Perhaps he’d realized how distressing the topic was; her glass face always betrayed her true feelings. Perhaps he simply trusted her. In any case, she owed it to herself to try to first figure out what the problem really was. 

But all that was a worry for another day. For now, she was heading _home_. Jamie would have dinner ready for her when she walked in the door. _God_ , how she loved him—her sweet, sexy Scot. If he asked her to marry him this minute, she would say yes. That much she knew for sure. 


	54. Clandestine Meeting: February 5, 2021

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John and Hal reveal some very important information about what's really happening with Geneva.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to my magnificent beta, Danielle (aka Smashingteacups), who in spite of her new baby induced sleep deprived mental fog, did a bang-up job beta-ing this chapter.

[ ](https://ibb.co/CbRWBGd)

_ <<Meet me in the lot at the back of the park-behind the soccer fields- 4 pm- don’t tell anyone>> _

Jamie had received the cryptic text from John Grey earlier in the day. He’d hoped to have lunch with him at the campus bistro, or maybe a cup of coffee at Mrs. Fitz’s, but John had insisted on this instead. Never in all the years that he’d known him had John acted like this—it was strange. Bizarre even. Now, Jamie found himself driving off to…whatever this was. 

Pulling into the deserted town park, he drove slowly around the perimeter to the meeting place John had insisted upon. In the spring, the whole park would be filled with families watching their kids play soccer in the recreational league, but in February, the place was deserted. Not even the dog walkers went behind the soccer fields. He saw John’s car already waiting for him along with a second car that he recognized as belonging to his brother, Hal. 

The moment Jamie put his car into park and turned off the engine, John was already tapping on his passenger side window. As he hit the unlock button, two doors opened simultaneously, startling him a bit when John climbed in the front and his brother hopped into the back seat. 

“What exactly is going on?” Jamie shifted in his seat, turning to look at John. “Why couldna we just get coffee? And what’s Hal doing here? No offense, Hal…it’s just not verra usual to see ye outside a board meeting at all, much less like this.” 

“We need to talk,” John replied, “and it isn’t exactly a topic that should be overheard. I insisted on telling you, and Hal insisted on coming along to chaperone me.” He shot an undisguised glare toward his brother. 

Hal glared right back at John. He worked in Albany as an adviser to the governor, as well as in the state Democratic party apparatus. Although his roles were never very public, he held quite a bit of power behind the scenes and had been cultivating connections that could serve him if he ever decided to make a move into national politics. 

“You need to be aware that two people on the Board of Trustees are currently under federal investigation.” John blurted out the news, then fell silent, giving Jamie a chance to take in what he had just said. 

“What?” Jamie’s jaw dropped, and he stared back and forth, seesawing between the two brothers. “Who?” 

“Clarence, and the new Dunsaney woman,” Hal replied curtly. 

Jamie felt the name hit him like a cannonball to his gut. Grasping for a response as he tried to school his features into a mask of calm resolve, he spit out the first thing that popped into his head. “I thought she got married. Isn’t her name Ellesmere now?” 

“Yes, but that’s beside the point,” John replied with a dismissive wave of his hand. “The issue is with her family’s foundation. And from what I hear, she’s on the verge of divorcing Ellesmere anyway.” 

At the word  _ foundation _ , Jamie was hit with another gut punch, and a second wave of nervous adrenaline. He could practically feel it coursing through his veins. He clenched his jaw, willing himself to stay calm. 

John began to explain, with Hal occasionally interrupting him to correct some detail or other. Clarence Sandringham had been under investigation for tax evasion for months, with state and federal authorities working together. During the course of those investigations, a connection between him and the Dunsaney Foundation had been uncovered, which had led them to look more closely at the foundation, ultimately leading to an unexpected discovery. 

“Money laundering?” Jamie pressed his lips together before continuing, “Through the foundation?” 

“Yes,” Hal jumped in. “Apparently it’s been going on for decades. Organized crime players, some from overseas syndicates, ‘donate’ to the foundation, which then funds fake international ‘students,’ funneling the now nice clean money back out to the criminals after Geneva takes her cut. She took over operations a few years ago, after her father died. Her sister has been estranged from the family for years, so Geneva’s the only one in charge now.” 

“But they do fund some actual students?” Jamie shifted uncomfortably in his seat. 

“Oh yes,” Hal elaborated. “That’s the front operation. The legitimate students are innocent in all this. I doubt they would have any idea that anything fishy is going on.”

“And Clarence?”

“Clarence ‘donates,’ of course,” John explained, his gaze earnestly focused on Jamie. “Gets a nice tax write-off for his trouble, but then gets it back under the table. He’s not affiliated with any of the mob players. He’s just a small time grifter.”

Jamie shook his head. “I find it a wee bit difficult to think of multi-millionaire Clarence as ‘small time’ anything.” 

John laughed awkwardly. “True, but compared to the big fish, he really is. He’s used the foundation for years—he knew Geneva’s father from way back. We think he recruited Geneva for the board so the foundation could expand its reach. Add a few legit Leoch students along with more fake ones. The more colleges and universities that the foundation is affiliated with, the easier it is to hide the scam—” 

Hal interrupted his brother, “Clarence is the bit player here. It’s Geneva that the feds are after. Apparently, she grew up learning all about the family business—both the legal and not-so-legal sides. She puts on a good face, though. Presents herself well to the world much better than her father ever did. All the evidence points to her wanting to expand the illegal side into new markets.” 

“Does Colum know?” Jamie asked, careful to keep his voice even.

“Yes,” Hal replied, pursing his lips. “I hadn’t planned to tell you until you assumed the presidency. The investigation might be wrapped up by then, so it might not have ever affected you in that role, but John insisted that I bring you into the loop.”

_ Christ _ …just when he thought he was starting to get free of the woman.

Casting a glance toward John, Jamie saw the corner of his mouth lift into the tiniest of smiles. 

“Well, I’m glad ye did,” he sighed. “I’m meeting with Colum regularly, and he’s bringing me up to speed on things. We thought it might make for a smoother transition. It wouldna have been good if he felt obligated to keep me in the dark about this.”

“I can see the wisdom of that,” Hal acknowledged, nodding his head. “It’s only that the fewer people who know about the investigation, the better. We don’t want to accidentally tip Geneva off.” 

“Mmphm…” Jamie grunted out his all-purpose Scottish noise, lost in his own thoughts. He had hoped to simply keep Geneva at arm’s length, not interacting with her more than necessary. Perhaps he wouldn’t have to be involved in this at all. 

“Jamie,” Hal’s voice called him back to the present. “I need you to be friendly to her. Welcome her on to the board. Don’t let her think anything unusual is happening, but whatever you do, don’t let the college get involved financially with the foundation.” 

“Aye.” 

“If she starts tossing around foundation money,” he went on, “I need you to string her along. Don’t actually agree to anything, but act interested. Flirt with the idea. Hell, flirt with  _ her _ a little if it helps. That will keep her distracted. God knows you’ve got plenty of charm…” Hal raised an eyebrow in his brother’s direction, prompting John to press his lips tighter.

“And be sure to tell me if she does or says anything that raises red flags. I can get in touch with the investigators and help shield you and the college.” The elder Grey brother leaned back in his seat. “Do you think you can do that?” 

Jamie took a deep breath before answering.

“Aye,” he replied tersely. 

“Good.” Hal slapped both his knees with his hands. “It’s settled. I’ll keep you informed as much as I can, but it will be on a need-to-know basis. You know where to find me. I hope I don’t have to tell you not to contact me about this through official college channels. No Leoch email, no calls from your office phone. Keep any texts vague. If you need to talk, we can use WhatsApp on our personal phones. It’s encrypted. I don’t want to fuck up the investigation  _ or _ give her mob buddies any reason to be suspicious of the college.”

Jamie nodded.

“All right then. I’ll leave you two to your visit. I need to get home. Talk to you later, John. Jamie…” Hal opened the door, causing a rush of cold air to flow in, slamming it a moment later. He jogged over to his car and took off out of the park. 

Jamie sat in silence for a few seconds, trying to compose himself. 

“Well?” John asked. “Aren’t you going to say anything?”

“ _ Christ _ … John. Thank ye, man. Truly.” Jamie looked up, holding his friend’s gaze. “Ye ken that I’ll tell Claire about this. I willna have a secret like this between us.” 

“I figured as much,” John replied. “I trust that you’ll emphasize the need for her silence on the matter.” 

“Of course.” Jamie turned to stare out the windshield at the snowy park. “I hadna planned to tell ye this, but I think ye need to know. I had a…personal…connection to Geneva…in the past.”

Jamie went on, explaining his sordid history with Geneva, and managing to keep his composure throughout. The only one he’d really been afraid of was Claire. He knew John would still be his friend no matter what, and although he was a bit embarrassed, Jamie was surprised to find that it wasn’t terribly difficult to confide in him. 

“If it matters, ye can tell Hal, but I dinna think it will. It’s ancient history now. Completely off the record. I’ve only ever told Claire, and now you. I was one of the above-board student grant recipients…at least before the final semester, but that probably is no’ relevant to the investigation. It didn’t involve anyone else but the two of us.” 

Jamie continued to stare out into the cold, propping his hands on the steering wheel. 

“Thank you for trusting me with this, Jamie.” John took a deep breath. “I won’t say a word unless I absolutely have to. You clearly didn’t have anything to do with the money laundering side of things, so it really shouldn’t matter.”

“When I saw her at the board meeting, I thought my life as I knew it was over. I thought Claire would never forgive me. Now…it’s no’ my life that will be falling apart.” Jamie shook his head in disbelief. “There’s a tiny part of me that pities her, caught up in such a mess. We were both so young and stupid.”

John sighed. “That’s because you are a decent human being, Jamie, but don’t waste your pity on her. She didn’t have to stay involved. She could have gone to the authorities after her father died, disappeared into a new life somewhere like her sister did. She chose to stay. That’s on her.” 

“Aye.” Jamie nodded, finally turning to John. “I dinna look forward to dealing with her, though. Do ye think they’ll actually arrest her?” 

“That’s the plan, as far as I know. Once they have enough evidence to make their move, they’ll raid the foundation offices and take her into custody.”

“Un-fucking-believable. I just canna wrap my head around it all. It’s madness.” Jamie reached up to run his fingers through his hair as a grin spread over his face. “When I took the job at a small college, I didna think I’d end up playing James Bond in a federal investigation. This was no’ exactly my career plan, ye ken.” 

John chuckled. “For what it’s worth, I think you’d make a fabulous Bond. Hopefully, you won’t have to be too involved. In any case, how about we grab that coffee and catch up on the parts of our lives that aren’t worthy of 007?”

“Mrs. Fitz’s?” 

“I’ll follow you.” John hopped out of Jamie’s SUV and went back to his own car, then the two drove slowly out of the snowy park, headed for the coffee shop. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> FYI I'm not in the FBI, CIA, NSA, nor am I a lawyer, so you'll just have to go with me on this plotline. I dinna have the time to research the nuances of tax law and the finer points of how to prosecute someone for money laundering. 
> 
> Hal has connections. Lots of connections. He has his fingers in lots of political pies, just like canon Hal does. Reread the Midterms chapter to learn a wee bit more about Hal. If you recall, he's also on the Board of Trustees. 
> 
> Did ye notice the wee Easter Egg about James Bond?? Sam is rumored to be in the running to be cast as the next Bond, so I just tossed that in for fun. 
> 
> Also, FYI, several people have expressed concern about a surprise Willie appearing as in canon. You might not recall since it's been so long, but back at Homecoming, William already made an appearance in this fic, as John and Hector's adopted son. He was the quarterback who dislocated his shoulder at the Homecoming football game. So, dinna fash. He isn't Geneva's in this fic.


	55. A Quiet Evening:  Still February 5, 2021

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Of course Jamie goes straight home and talks to Claire...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Surprise!! Since this fic unfolds in real time, we needed another wee chapter tonight! 
> 
> This one is totally unbeta-ed.

[ ](https://ibb.co/0JS586B)

When Jamie walked in the door of their apartment, Claire could see that he was visibly upset. His usual joyful demeanor at walking into the home they now shared was clearly diminished.

Giving the chili in the slow cooker a quick stir, she greeted him as he was putting his briefcase in the spare bedroom next to his desk. 

“All right, soldier,” she ordered, “Out with it.”

He looked up at her, and a sheepish grin spread over his face.

“Ye ken me well, Sassenach.” He pulled her into an embrace, planting kisses on her cheeks and forehead. “I had a rather…interesting…meeting with John and Hal today. Can we sit and talk now, or is dinner ready to go?”

“Dinner can wait. It’s chili.”

They sat down on the couch opposite each other, and Jamie relayed the news he had learned from the brothers. Threading his fingers through his hair, he stared at the ceiling for a moment before returning his gaze to Claire.

“So that’s it—the foundation is as dirty as a pig rolling in mud,” he concluded, visibly relaxing. 

“Bloody hell…” Claire’s eyes widened as she processed the news. “Well, whatever happened between the two of you had nothing to do with the actual crime here. That should give you some comfort.” 

“Aye,” he nodded, “Like any money laundering scheme, it needs a front operation that’s above board. Any real students wouldna have known a thing about the dark side of it. I certainly had no idea. I doubt that the dirty money crowd bothered to show up to greet the grant recipients.”

“I wouldn’t think so…” Claire reached over to touch Jamie’s hand that was resting on the couch, tracing the veins on the back. “The worst of it for you will be to keep up a friendly façade. I can’t imagine it will be easy.”

Jamie snorted out a laugh. “That’s the understatement of the year, Sassenach.”

“Well, try to avoid her if you can. Colum’s still president for now. Let him deal with her.” She leaned over, touching her forehead to his. “You do know that this changes nothing between us. Not your therapy. Not our relationship. Not how I feel about you. Nothing.”

He nuzzled her cheek with his nose. “I do love ye, Claire. More than anything…”

“I love you too.”

After dinner, they spent the evening reading, sipping whisky, and listening to a jazz program on public radio. Claire had developed a fondness for whisky after Jamie had taught her the basics, although she did still like a good gin and tonic, especially in the summertime. Sometime after her third whisky and tenth chapter, she stood up and walked around behind Jamie’s chair, leaned over and wrapped her arms around him, pressing kisses behind his ear. 

“Care to assemble some furniture?” she whispered. 

Her voice gave him a shiver up his spine, she could feel the smile spread across his face.

“Part A into Part B?”

“Mmm-hmm…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm claiming this as my namesake chapter. I took my AO3 name from my favorite Friday night activity- curling up with a good book and a dram or two, listening to "The Jazz Sofa," a program on my local NPR radio station.


	56. At the Bistro: February 9, 2021

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Claire and Geillis have a late lunch and a catch-up, but they aren't alone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This wee thing hasna been under the gaze of my keen-eyed beta, so if it's a grammatical hot mess, it's all on me!

[ ](https://ibb.co/SskRtHM)

It was early afternoon, and the campus bistro was still humming with students and faculty having a late lunch. Claire and Geillis managed to find a table, quickly claiming it as its previous occupants got up to leave. After carefully putting down her bowl of soup, Claire took off her coat and sat down to hold the seats while Geillis went to grab them some silverware and napkins. A few minutes later, the two had settled in for a long overdue catch-up. 

“Och, it’s so good to see ye! I feel like I’ve been shot out of a cannon this semester. I swear half the students are in some sort of emotional crisis at the moment.” Geillis took a sip of her soda. “These things come in waves, ye ken. By April, it will quiet down and I’ll be bored. Mark me.”

Claire chuckled. “I know you can’t betray any confidences, but what kinds of crises do you see? I’ve been curious about your work ever since I met you.”

Geillis pursed her lips, thinking. “Hmmm…well, I get a lot who are struggling with their classes. Lots of first years, ye ken. College turned out to be a wee bit harder than they were expecting. I have a few who are having gender identity issues. Some with family problems. Several unintended pregnancies…och, ye may know one of these from last semester. It’s common knowledge on campus now, so I’m no’ betraying any confidences. Remember Marsali? I think ye had her in yer seminar. She go’ pregnant and eloped with Fergus over winter break. She’s due over the summer.”

“Marsali? I had no idea.” Claire’s eyes widened at the news. “I do recall that she and Fergus were dating. They caught us once, early on. Jamie and I were up in the clock tower alone and they walked in on us.”

A grin spread across Geillis’ face. “And what exactly did they walk in on?”

“Nothing much,” Claire replied as a blush spreading over her cheeks as she smiled, recalling the memory. “We were watching the sunset.”

“Mmm-hmm…”

“Actually, this sort of brings up something I want to talk to you about.”

Geillis’ face lit up, her eyes grew wide and she pressed a hand onto Claire’s arm.

“Ye’re pregnant! A wee baby Fraser?”

Before she could respond, Geillis spoke again, her tone completely changed, and Claire realized that her glass face had betrayed her yet again.

“Och, lass…I’m sorry. I know better than to make assumptions like that. I dinna ken what got into me. I remember now what ye told me last fall. I’m so sorry, Claire. Please forgive me.”

Claire inhaled sharply, trying to compose her features and knowing she likely wasn’t succeeding.

“It’s okay. But yes, it does have to do with what I told you last fall. I’ve made an appointment to see a gynecologist in a couple weeks. I want to figure out what my problem actually is. Jamie and I have been together for months now, and well…we’re…um…” She smiled slightly.

“Verra active?”

“Yes. Quite.” The blush spread to her ears as Claire swallowed a spoonful of soup, as her thoughts immediately jumped to memories of the night before. “Anyhow, I think this may become a permanent thing between us, and I know Jamie wants children. I do too. Kind of surprised myself with that one. But if it’s impossible, I need to know.”

“Well, I’m pleased as punch to hear the word _‘permanent’_ coming from yer lips. I knew he had it bad for ye last fall. I couldna be happier for the two of ye.” Geillis stabbed her salad, muttering a brief Gaelic curse at an errant tomato that escaped her fork.

“Thank you. But nothing is official on that front.” Claire shifted in her seat.

“Yet.”

“Fine—yet.”

“Correct me if I’m wrong, but I think that when we talked ye told me that yer rat bastard ex got tested? And then a wee bit after that ye left him?”

“That’s right,” Claire confirmed, her lips pursed. “His sperm count was ‘exceptional,’ so it was obviously me who was the problem.”

Geillis leaned back in her seat, studying her friend. “I also remember that he was a lying snake. Did ye ever actually _see_ the results of this test or did he just tell ye?”

“He told me.”

“Then how can ye assume the problem was no’ really him? I dinna trust the man.”

“Well, as you so aptly put it, we’re ‘very active,’ and things haven’t exactly turned out like they did for Marsali.” Claire took a deep breath and stared at her soup.

“Och, you listen to me, Claire Beauchamp almost Fraser…dinna give up so soon! Ye’re no’ eighteen like Marsali. These things get trickier with age, but doesna mean it canna happen. Ye might only need a wee bit of medical help.”

Claire shrugged, focusing her attention back on her lunch as she spread some butter on her bread, then dunked it into her bowl.

“I haven’t told Jamie yet about the doctor. I want to wait until I know a bit more. It’s not like we’re actively trying to conceive. I just…feel defective. It’s silly, I know.”

Geillis reached over and clasped her friend’s hand. “It’s no’ silly. And it’s no’ hopeless.”

Claire smiled weakly and dropped the subject.

As they continued talking and eating, the conversation turned to other matters, with the two friends sharing details of their holidays, as well as bits of campus gossip. Neither of them noticed the attractive, expensively dressed young woman at the next table who quietly got up to leave, casting a glance at them as a smirk spread across her face. 


	57. What Happened in the Library: February 12, 2021

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Claire spends the evening working in the library. Jamie drops by...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to my wonderful beta for this chapter, Danielle (SmashingTeacups) who sorts out my sentences and brings order to my chaos.
> 
> This is one of the "by request" location chapters from the Twitter poll done a few months back. The other requested location will come later in the spring.

[ ](https://ibb.co/LrCbqkw)

10:45 PM

It had been a long week, but Claire still had work to do. She had hunkered down in the library for the evening, trying to avoid the irresistible distraction posed by her tall, handsome Scot at home. Although the library wasn’t exactly busy on a Friday night, she had set herself up in a quiet spot up the stairs away from the main reading room. Surrounded by stacks of books along with her laptop and notes, she was dismayed to hear the sound of the bell that signaled the fifteen minute warning before closing. How was it nearly eleven already? 

Letting out a sigh, she rubbed her eyes and closed her notebook. She heard footsteps in the hallway and turned around to see Jamie walk into the room, a smile on his face, carrying a large tote bag. 

“I think ye’ve done enough work for one night,” he said, planting a kiss on her forehead as he sat down beside her. “How’s it going? Making progress I hope?” 

Claire slumped back in her chair and ran her fingers through her curls. “Oh, it’s going well. There’s just a lot to learn.” 

“Learn? I thought ye were grading?”

“No,” she replied, taking off her reading glasses. “You remember Ian Murray? He’s a biology major.”

“Aye.” 

“Well, he’s very interested in ethno-botany, which of course means he comes to me for advising. He’s doing a summer internship on the Mohawk reservation up near the Canadian border—he wants to study their use of medicinal plants.” Claire gestured towards the large pile of books scattered around the table. “But remember I did my dissertation research in the Amazon rainforest, not upstate New York. I want to get myself up to speed not only on the local flora, but also the tribe. It’s a great honor that they have allowed him to do this for the summer—he’s living with them on the reservation—and I want to know enough about their culture to advise him. He’s a good kid.”

“Och, ye’re so fantastic at this, Claire…I knew ye would be.” Jamie’s eyes softened as he smiled at her. “I know a few faculty who would turn the kid loose without a word of guidance. The lad’s lucky to have ye for his adviser.” 

Just then a student poked his head in the room. “We’re closing! Oh, it’s you, Dr. Jamie…”

“Aye, Rabbie, it’s me,” he replied with a nod. “We need a few minutes to finish up. Ye dinna have to wait for us. I’ll make sure the door’s locked when we leave.”

“Thanks Dr. Jamie!” he said as he took off at a jog to the next room.

As she watched him go, Claire chuckled. “There’s someone who’s eager to be done with his job for the night.” 

“Aye, I expect he’ll be headed down to the fraternity houses. He’s a Phi Tau.”

“It never ceases to amaze me how you seem to know absolutely everything about every single student here.” She shook her head and yawned. “I can barely remember the names of the ones in my classes.” 

They both glanced up as the overhead lights in the main area went out one by one, leaving the hall beyond their room in near darkness. 

“We should go,” Claire sighed.

Jamie leaned down and kissed her, running a finger along her jawline to tip her head closer to him. 

“No, we shouldn’t,” he murmured into her ear. 

She leaned back to see his face, full of mischief. “What are you up to, Dr. Jamie?”

He quirked an eyebrow and flashed a lopsided smile as he reached down into the tote bag and brought out a bottle of wine, a corkscrew and two glasses. Sitting down in the chair opposite her, he explained, “Ever since that day in yer office—when I had ye sprawled out naked on yer desk—I’ve had this fantasy of making love to ye in every building on campus. We’ve done a few, but never the library.” He smirked as he ran his fingers slowly up and down her thigh. “Think ye might be interested in such a project?” 

“For science, of course…”

“Aye, for science.”

Claire bit her lip and grinned, reaching over to Jamie’s thigh, mimicking him as she stroked the seam of his jeans. “Well, I am a scientist, after all. I would be remiss if I turned down an opportunity like that.”

He kissed her again, deeper this time, then released her mouth and stood up. “Open the bottle,” he instructed, nodding toward the table as he strode to the door, closing it and turning off the overhead light, before turning toward the darkened hearth at the far end of the room. There he opened a small panel in the wall, and flipped a switch to light the gas fireplace. Orange flames sprung to life, and he pushed back the benches that were near the hearth. 

“I didn’t realize these fireplaces actually worked!” Claire exclaimed as she stood and filled the wine glasses. 

“Aye, they do…most of them anyway,” he chuckled as he spread out a large fleece blanket from the tote bag on the floor. “It’ll feel like the cabin all over again.”

“Not quite,” she giggled. “We won’t have Murtagh’s mounted buck staring down at us, watching our every move.” 

“Even better!” 

After Jamie spread out the blanket, he quickly stripped down to bare skin.

“Are you sure we won’t be interrupted?” she asked, taking a sip of wine. “I don’t want us to be the focus of campus gossip next week.” 

The question was barely out of her mouth before he was behind her, reaching around with one hand to take her glass and set it down, while unbuttoning her jeans with the other. He nuzzled into her neck, planting a kiss on the delicate shell of her ear; she shivered at his touch.

“Dinna fash,  _ mo ghràidh _ . Rabbie is long gone, and I saw Rupert and Angus walk through on my way in. They’re headed down toward the fraternity houses after they make a pass through the gym. They won’t be back for hours,” he whispered, nibbling on her earlobe. “We’re all alone.” 

Jamie’s hands continued their task of unbuttoning, unzipping, and unhooking while Claire pressed her back against his naked torso. She kicked off her shoes as he slid down her jeans, then kicked those off too. A minute later, she was fully naked, and began to work her arse up and down against his erection as his large hands stroked her torso from collar bones to pelvis before slipping between her legs. 

Claire’s breath caught as he slipped two long fingers inside of her while continuing to work her with his thumb as well. Arching her back, she leaned into him as he latched on to her neck gently with his teeth, nibbling and sucking in a way that would surely leave a mark— though at the moment, she didn’t particularly care. It wasn’t long before she was spiraling as he picked up the pace with his hand, the other finding its way to her breasts, lazily moving back and forth between them. 

“Come for me, Claire,” he murmured into her ear, his voice low and thick with desire. “Let go. No one’s here…it’s only the two of us.” 

She cried out with the force of her climax, thumping her head back against his chest as her legs gave out from beneath her. Jamie quickly shifted his arm, holding her as she rode out the waves. He wedged her arse tight between his thighs, pressing her against his cock, rock hard and throbbing. 

Panting for air, she rasped,  _ “My God _ , you are good at that…”

“Och, am I now?” Jamie chuckled. “Ye ken that it’s one of my favorite things in the world—watching you fall to pieces, knowing that I can make it happen for ye.” 

Claire turned around in his arms to face him and brought her hand down, stroking her thumb over his full length, causing him to let out a groan. 

“Hmmm…your turn.” 

With a step back, she turned and sauntered toward the blanket in front of the fire, swaying her hips as she went. Casting a glance over her shoulder, she was struck by the beauty of him, lit by the firelight—the broad planes of his chest with its dusting of auburn curls, the breadth of his shoulders, the line of his jaw, sharply defined in the flickering light. 

Her gaze drifted downward and she smiled to herself, knowing that in moments she would feel that delicious stretch as she took in his full thickness and length, massive and solid. She was already wet, but the thought of him sent another jolt of electricity between her thighs, and she felt herself grow even slicker. 

She lay down on the blanket, her legs spread, as he quickly positioned himself. Propping himself on one elbow so as not to crush her, he looked into her eyes, both eyebrows raised in his unspoken question. She gave him the tiniest of nods, smiling to herself at his never-ending sensitivity to her needs, before he entered her with one long, slow, thorough stroke. Her breath hitched as he fully sheathed himself within her, and a heartbeat later his mouth was on hers—his tongue gently probing, exploring, seeking. 

Releasing her mouth, he rolled over onto his side, never breaking their union, then reached down to pull her leg up over his hip. Over and over he slowly thrust, all the while holding her eyes with his. Staring into their liquid azure depths, Claire was suddenly overcome with emotion, her eyes misting slightly. Her fingers combed through his hair, coming to rest on his neck where she could feel his pulse under her thumb.

“I…I love you, James Fraser,” she whispered, “more than I’ve ever loved anything in my life.” 

She flashed a watery smile, immediately feeling a bit silly and maudlin as the words escaped her lips. But Jamie looked back at her, his expression full of sincerity, and answered softly, “Three weeks ago, I thought I was going to lose you…and instead of walking away, ye gave me the greatest gift of my life.” His fingers gently cupped her cheek, stroking along her jaw as she turned to kiss the palm of his hand. “I’m yours, Claire, body and soul...completely yours for the rest of my life if ye’ll have me. I don’t ever want to live a day without you.” 

  
  


*****

  
  
  


“…I don’t ever want to live a day without you.” 

He was still inside her, but Claire had suddenly stopped moving.

“Are…are you saying what I think you’re saying?” Her voice was shaky, hesitant. 

_ Christ _ , did he just accidentally propose to her? 

This wasn’t at all how he’d planned to do it. He hadn’t yet even decided on a ring, much less purchased one. The words had just sort of…slipped out. But there they were, hanging heavy in the air between them. 

Jamie took a breath. And another. 

Claire was staring at him, her whisky eyes wide with anticipation. His throat felt suddenly dry, and he swallowed, trying to find his voice.

“If I was, what would yer answer be?” 

“What would you want it to be?” she replied, her voice barely a whisper.

He shifted a bit, glancing away then back again, trying to hold his emotion in check. He gave her the tiniest of nods...his deepest hope, his breath stuck in his chest, terrified to do or say any more. 

Moments later, a radiant smile spread over her face. 

“Yes.” 

In a heartbeat, he rolled on top of her, peppering her face with kisses. Another heartbeat and they both were crying—joyful, sloppy tears—as Claire cradled his face in her hands. Somewhere along the way, he had slid out of her, softening as his mind shifted from sensation to emotion, but it didn’t matter. Nothing else mattered.

_ Yes. _

She’d said  _ yes _ . 

She was  _ his _ , now and forever. They simply held each other’s gaze for a while, wide smiles on both their faces, soaking in the moment,  _ I love you  _ echoing again and again off the high ceiling.

Eventually, Claire shifted, snaking her hand down between them, and began to stroke him. He saw her eyes darken as she looked up at him.

“I think you need to finish what you started…” She rolled her hips, grinding herself against him. It didn’t take long before he was ready again, and entered her once more. He moved slowly at first, gradually picking up the pace. Claire matched him stroke for stroke, and before long, she moaned out his name as she clenched around him. Moments later, he followed her into bliss before collapsing onto his back, gasping for breath. 

  
  


*****

They sat on the blanket, cross-legged, still naked, sipping the wine.

“How could you possibly think I would say anything but yes?” Claire shook her head in disbelief.

“I dinna ken. This wasna at all how I planned it,” Jamie chuckled. “I dinna even have a ring yet. I was looking for one last week, the night you were late at the gym, but I—” 

“In the middle of that blizzard?” 

“Aye. The stores were closed, so I could only keek in the windows, ye ken.”

“You are ridiculous.” She beamed at him, her smile wide as she took another swallow of wine.

“Aye. Ye’re no’ wrong there. I thought I’d do the whole down-on-one-knee thing, mebbe sometime after spring break, but I guess I couldna wait. The words just slipped out in the moment, and well…then I panicked.” His ears pinked as he looked at her sheepishly. 

“You could still do that, you know.” Claire smirked. “People will want to hear how you proposed, and it might be better to have an official version rather than telling the whole world about late-night library lovemaking.” 

Jamie choked out a laugh, nearly spitting out his wine. “ _ Christ, _ ye’re right. This isna exactly a tale I’d want ye telling the students. And ye ken that lots o’ students are going to ask.”

“Let’s keep it between us for now. Then when you work up your courage to do the official version, we’ll go public with the news.” Claire emptied her wine glass, setting it on the floor next to her. 

“Aye, let’s.  _ God _ , Claire, I’m so in love with ye, I’ve gone completely daft.” He shook his head, and his voice softened, becoming more serious. “I still canna believe I blurted it out like that. Ye deserved a proper proposal, no’ this nonsense.” 

Claire reached out a hand for his and gave it a squeeze. 

“I wouldn’t have it any other way. It was perfect, and so very  _ you _ . Remember what happened at that committee meeting, when you burst in and declared your love before the whole room?” 

“ _ Christ _ I am such an idiot.” Shaking his head, he rolled his eyes as a blush spread over his cheeks.

“But you’re  _ my  _ idiot, and I love you.” 

He smiled back at her, tossing back the last of his wine.

“I think I’m ready to take my fiancée home, if she would care to join me?”

Standing up, he offered her a hand to help her to her feet.

“Your fiancée would like that very much.” 

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've patterned Leoch's library after one particularly gorgeous college library, shown in the moodboard. Anyone recognize it? They really do have fireplaces in some of the reading rooms as shown in the photos, a feature which works well for Jamie and Claire's late night rendezvous. 
> 
> There really is a Mohawk reservation in New York state that straddles the border with Canada. Its Mohawk name is Akwesasne.
> 
> Note for non-US readers: Fraternities (men) and Sororities (women) exist on most US college campuses. They are social clubs, identified by their Greek Letters, and often have congregate housing either on campus or nearby off campus where members live together.


	58. Snow Day: February 16, 2021

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A massive winter storm caused everything to shut down for the day, including Leoch College.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is completely impromptu fluff and smut, based on the weather! I had a free hour, so here we are... It might be a wee bit rough around the edges since it's essentially an unbetaed first draft, but the snowstorm dictated that it must happen!! Such are the hazards of real time, real world fics! So enjoy this wee surprise. Your regularly scheduled prewritten midweek post complete with actual plot will be up tomorrow.
> 
> For those outside the US, do a search for "snowstorm upstate New York" and look at the images from the last day or two.

[ ](https://ibb.co/t4rv9RM)   
  


It was nearly midnight on Monday when Jamie and Claire got the alert on their phones. A massive winter storm was moving across upstate New York, bringing with it heavy snow, along with freezing rain, sleet and ice. As a result, the entire Leoch College campus was shutting down Tuesday. Both turned off their alarms, and snuggled in for a lovely long night and a lazy morning.

Claire awoke to the sensation of butterflies tickling her inner thigh, but as she came to consciousness, she realized it was Jamie’s tongue, licking a delicate trail as he gently moved ever upwards. She also realized that he was underneath the thick down comforter, and immediately threw it off, only to be greeted with his blue eyes looking up at her from between her legs.

 _“God,_ Jamie, as much as I enjoy waking up to this, I wouldn’t want you to suffocate under there,” Claire laughed.

“Dinna fash, Sassenach,” he replied with a nibble to her soft skin, “I figured ye’d wake up pretty quickly with such a stramash between yer legs. I was never in any real danger.”

He resumed his task, uncovered now, reaching up to drape Claire’s thigh over his shoulder before spreading her with his fingers and laving his tongue over her center. Over and over he worked her to the edge, only to back off again and plant kisses on her hip bones while she came down from the precipice. After the fourth time, Claire was desperate for release, begging him to finally bring her to completion. 

“Jamie, _please_!!” she gasped, panting, as she reached down to thread her fingers through his auburn curls. He picked up the pace as he grabbed her, pulling her even closer against him, pressing his lips to the place of her most desperate need, and gently sucking. It was enough to send Claire spiraling, and she slammed her palm against the headboard as her release hit with such force that she pressed her heels into the mattress, lifting her hips into the air, crying out his name as she did. 

Coming down from her peak, she felt as though her lungs barely got enough air. Dizzy with sensation, she arched her back, stretching her arms overhead as Jamie rose up above her. Wrapping her arms around his neck, she pulled him to her, latching on with her teeth to his neck. He leaned over, nudging her towards his lips, but she resisted, turning her head.

“Morning breath…” she murmured.

“Dinna care…” he replied, taking her mouth into a deep, passionate kiss. She could taste herself on him, and the realization aroused her again.

Spreading her legs, she reached down to guide him into her. They moved as one, and Claire reached around with both hands, pulling him in deeper as she rolled her hips to grind herself against him, reveling in the sensation of being filled completely—more completely than she ever had in her life before him. Again and again, they moved—apart, then together, ebbing and flowing like the ocean tides. Frantic mouths grappled and clashed; limbs tangled. Sensation heightened, every stroke moved them closer. Every touch drove them closer to the edge until finally, at last, they crashed over together, a wave breaking over rocks, each crying out their declarations of love into their shared breath.

Sated, they spooned together, falling back to sleep for another hour before stirring. Claire got up first to start the coffee, glancing over at her sleeping mate with a smile, her heart fit to burst with love for him, grateful for the storm. 


	59. Daydreams and Realities: February 17. 2021

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's the Leoch College monthly board meeting. Jamie is rather bored and decides to make some plans.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you're all staying warm if you're in the path of any winter storms! For readers in the southern hemisphere, I'm jealous!! Glad you all enjoyed the wee surprise. 
> 
> FYI, I have purposefully chosen not to use Geneva's image on my moodboards. Geneva's character is the focus of uniquely intense negative feelings in the fandom, and unfortunately, sometimes that gets directed at the actress who played her. No matter what we all may feel about the fictional Geneva, the actress does not deserve our collective vitriol or hatred. By not using her image I am intentionally separating the fictional Geneva from the real life actress. Geneva will be represented symbolically in my moodboards.

[ ](https://ibb.co/WK31LDj)

The February monthly meeting of the Board of Trustees of Leoch College had been postponed a day because of the storm, but by late afternoon on Wednesday, everyone had finally gathered, complaining all the while about the ice and snow. For Jamie, was a relatively mundane affair after a long day in the office, and he was eager to get it over with and head home. The shock of seeing Geneva had worn off, and things with Claire were better than ever now that they were engaged (even if it wasn’t yet publicly known). As board member John Myers droned on about old business, his thoughts drifted to how he would propose to Claire officially. He wanted to really do it right, still feeling a wee bit embarrassed about how he blurted it out in the library.

“…with everything set for the Winter Weekend, I hope to see you all at the Black and White Ball on Saturday the 27th. We’ll have a reception room for the board with an open bar just off the main ballroom…” Myers continued to talk of details of the weekend, but Jamie immediately realized this was the perfect opportunity. 

The Black and White Ball was an annual tradition, part of a weekend of festivities on campus. Winter Weekend was similar to Homecoming, but without the football game and parade, it was a smaller affair. It was essentially an excuse to host parties and get-togethers in a very dreary part of the year. The ball was formal, with everyone decked out in black and white, matching the decorations of the ballroom. As soon as he heard Myers mention it, he decided to propose at the ball. Make a big deal of it. Down on one knee in front of the world. The longer he thought, the more ideas he got to make it truly special, something she would never forget…something they could tell their grandchildren someday. Before his accidental proposal at the library, he would never have considered putting her on the spot in public like this in case she would say no, but with “no” off the table, he decided to go big. Really big. He would start contacting people immediately.

He was brought back to the present when Colum moved to the new business on the agenda: scholarships. Catching Jamie’s eye, Colum read from the agenda. Both knew about the situation with Geneva, and more importantly, they each knew that the other was also in the loop. Colum nodded ever so slightly to Jamie just before turning his attention back to the larger group.

“I’d now like to invite Ms. Dunsaney to speak,” Colum turned his attention toward Geneva. “She’ll be discussing a new proposal for scholarship funding for Leoch students.”

Geneva stood, glancing around the table before fixing her gaze on Jamie.

“As you all know from the handouts, the Dunsaney Foundation has been involved in higher education for decades, funding both undergraduate and graduate students from around the world. In fact, we are lucky enough to have one of our grant recipients right here in this room.” Her mouth curled up in a smirk and she continued, “Dr. James Fraser’s Ph.D. was funded through the foundation, and Leoch College will certainly benefit from his…many talents…in the years to come.”

Jamie sat stock still, a solicitous smile plastered on his face as she spoke. Nodding politely to the board at the mention of his name, he caught Hal giving him a raised eyebrow, which he promptly ignored.

“We would like to engage in a partnership with Leoch beginning this fall,” Geneva went on, “to fully fund twelve American students and 5 international students with candidates identified through their applications, then brought to campus for competitive interviews and presentations…”

Jamie looked over at Colum, who shook his head side to side, the movement so small that no one in the room not paying attention would notice, signifying that this would absolutely _not_ be happening at Leoch. Hal cast a quick glance at both of them, his lips pursed in concern. When Geneva finished talking, Hal spoke up. 

“Thank you, Ms. Dunsaney,” He offered, smiling politely. “I’m sure that we can come to some arrangement to benefit our students, but we’ll need to go through our process first. It’s a formality, but I’m sure you understand. We probably can’t be ready for this fall, but we can certainly get the ball rolling. I’ll be in touch with the first paperwork later next week.”

Geneva laughed softly, looking frustrated. “Oh yes, bureaucracy…my favorite. In the meantime, I’ll hand out some brochures that explain things from the student perspective, but of course you can always just ask Dr. Fraser. I’m sure he’d be thrilled to share his experiences.”

Jamie clenched his jaw as he met her gaze and nodded politely before quickly turning away and interjecting, “Yes, if any of ye have questions, feel free to talk to me.”

“One more thing…” Geneva added. “We’re also interested in doing some departmental grants. This is new for us at the foundation, and Leoch will be the first to receive them in our pilot program. We’re thinking…biology…this year, so at some point, I’d like to meet your biology faculty.”

Jamie stared at the brochure, refusing to look up at her, not knowing if he could maintain his composure if he did. _Biology_. _Christ_ , that was the _last_ place he wanted her sticky fingers. Thinking quickly, he interjected, “Ms. Dunsaney, if ye’re looking to fund the sciences, ye might consider the physics department instead. I ken they’re looking to do some equipment upgrades.”

Geneva stared directly at him. “Hmmm…perhaps. But I’m sure that biology might appreciate a new scanning electron microscope. I heard that they are in need of a replacement.”

He deflected that comment with a vague response about having further discussion, and she sat down. After the meeting concluded, he noticed that Hal had cornered Geneva and was gushing over both the possibility of the scholarships and the grants. Jamie shook his head. Hal was a natural politician. Making a mental note to thank him later, Jamie quickly grabbed his briefcase and left. He might have to be polite to the woman, but he wasn’t going to talk to her more than absolutely necessary. 

  
*****

Later that evening, on **_WhatsApp:_**

  
GenevaD93: Meeting went well. They’re all thrilled at the new partnership—and the cash flow. Should have it wrapped up in a month or two. I figure we should be able to funnel at least ten million through here next year. 

  
ChistyyeNoski87: Excellent. Keep me posted. My superiors will be pleased. 

  
GenevaD93: This one’s a bit personal to me. I might do things different than our usual, but tell your boss not to be concerned. It won’t affect the bottom line. 

  
ChistyyeNoski87: Understood. I’ll check back next week. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WhatsApp is an encrypted messaging app, which means that messages are much more secure, which can be a good thing or a bad thing! Lots of people use the app (myself included) but it is also a favorite of organized crime, terrorist groups, and anyone who wants their messages to be undecipherable. 
> 
> Note for non US readers: Many US colleges have some sort of dance in the dreary winter months. I've patterned Leoch's festivities on the college where I work. In pre-Covid times, we would have a winter weekend and a B&W ball as described above. 
> 
> Given the Dunsaney Foundation's money laundering activities, you might find it amusing to translate the name of Geneva's mysterious correspondent.


	60. Realities and Daydreams: February 19, 2021

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Claire visits the doctor and has a heart to heart with Jamie.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As I've mentioned previously, there will be discussions of infertility in this fic. If this touches a tender place in your heart, know that I hold you in my thoughts with compassion and love. 
> 
> Thank you as always to my wonderful beta, Danielle (smashingteacups) who offered her medical expertise in addition to her grammatical expertise to this chapter. 
> 
> And thank you to my wonderful readers who have been with this fic for so long! It will wrap up in early May at the end of their spring semester. Know that I appreciate each and every one of you, along with your kudos and comments.

[ ](https://ibb.co/HVCwFx7)

Claire sat nervously on the exam table, wearing a paper gown. Dr. Danielle Rawlings had come highly recommended, but there was no getting around the fact that any visit to the gynecologist was always stressful. She hated feeling so exposed and vulnerable. Glancing at the stirrups, she sighed to herself, resigned to do what must be done. There was a warning knock at the door, then Dr. Rawlings and her assistant entered, both smiling and friendly. 

“Hello Claire, I’m Danielle Rawlings, and this is my assistant Rae. It’s nice to meet you.” She reached out a hand to Claire, who shook it politely. “So, what brings you in today?” she asked with a glance at the form Claire had filled out. 

“Well, I’m due for my annual exam, for one thing. I moved to Leoch last summer. You should be receiving records from my previous physician if you haven’t already,” Claire explained, trying to keep her voice even. “But more importantly, I want to discuss my fertility.” 

Claire went on to explain how the situation with Frank had played out, and her current concerns about her ability to conceive with Jamie, all the while fidgeting with her fingers in her lap in spite of her efforts to the contrary. 

“And how long have you been active with your current partner?” Dr. Rawlings questioned. 

“Since late September.” 

“Five months…and during that time, was there any period of four or five days without intercourse?” 

“Yes,” Claire let out a breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding. “Several times. He was away at a conference once, and just recently I had the flu. And of course, before we were living together, some weeks were just busy and we didn’t always get to see each other as often as we would have liked.” 

Dr. Rawlings nodded and made a few notes before responding. “Have you actively been tracking your cycles? Trying to conceive?” 

“No. I haven’t been using any birth control, but no…we haven’t really been...trying.”

“Let’s have a look at you,” she replied, gesturing for Claire to put her feet in the stirrups. 

A few minutes later, the physical exam was complete, much to Claire’s relief.

“Everything looks and feels totally normal,” the doctor explained, “And there’s nothing in your history to suggest any particular problem. If you were younger, I’d say give it time. Five months isn’t really all that long, especially if there were times when you were apart, and you’re not actively trying to conceive. Usually, we don’t even begin fertility treatments until the couple has gone for a year. But given your age, and your expressed desire to conceive, we may want to intervene sooner. Thirty-nine certainly isn’t  _ old _ to become a mother by today’s social standards, but it is a time when fertility starts to drop off. You might want to track your ovulation for a few months, and time intercourse to correspond to those days.”

“I’d need to discuss that with Jamie,” Claire gulped. “We haven’t really talked about it.”

“Well, that’s your first task,” Dr. Rawlings said with a smile. “Then, there’s some routine blood tests to check your hormone levels and such. Next would be a procedure we do, just to check that there aren’t any blockages in your fallopian tubes. It involves an x-ray and an injection of contrast dye through the cervix into the uterus and the tubes. If you’re interested, those would be the next steps. Think about it. Talk it over with your partner, and if you want, call back and we can schedule it whenever you like.” 

Claire nodded awkwardly. “Thank you.”

With the visit wrapped up, Claire walked out of the office into the chilly air and headed home to Jamie. They’d planned to go out to dinner, but maybe it would be better to have something delivered. That way, if she broke down in tears, at least they would be alone. 

  
  
  


*****

  
  


When Claire walked in the door, she was greeted by a cheerful Jamie who hugged her and planted a kiss on her cheek. 

“Ye want to go straightaway or do ye need a few minutes?” he asked, but then pulled back, looking at her intently. “What’s wrong,  _ mo chridhe _ ? _ ” _

“Can we talk?”

“Aye,” he replied, his voice full of concern. “Come, sit…” 

She took off her coat and handed it to Jamie, who hung it up and followed her into the living room. 

_ Might as well come straight out with it, _ she thought with a sigh. After they both were seated, she took a deep breath. Starting at the beginning, she told him everything—about Frank, her assumption that the problem was hers, her grief at not being able to give Jamie the children he so obviously wanted—ending with her appointment with Dr. Rawlings. As the last of it left her lips, Claire sunk back on the couch, feeling like a balloon deflating as she did. Tears welled up in her eyes, spilling out onto her cheeks in spite of her efforts to hold them back.

“Och,  _ mo ghràidh _ …shh...” Jamie pulled her in close to him, cradling her head against his chest, and rocked her gently. “I’m so sorry ye’ve had to carry this alone all this time.” He pressed a kiss to her curls. “I’ve wondered why ye never brought up birth control, but from the beginning, ye always seemed so adamant that we didna have to worry. I knew ye’d tell me in yer own good time, but I’m so sorry that I havena been able to be there and support ye.” 

“It’s not your fault,” Claire sniffed, reaching for a tissue. “It’s mine. I’ve been avoiding the subject, but when you moved in, I realized that things were getting serious, and I knew I had to do something. Are you sure you’re okay? I feel so defective, not being able to give you—” 

“I think ye’re jumping to conclusions,” he interjected, stroking her hair. “Dr. Rawlings didna say ye couldna have a child. Ye dinna ken that yet. We’ve been apart off and on; ye canna conclude that it’s hopeless. She said so. We might just need a wee bit more time. And ye ken that Frank was a lying bastard. Ye’ve told me so. I wouldna trust whatever he told ye.”

Claire nodded and blew her nose, unable to think of anything to say.

“Do ye want to try for a few months? Track yer cycles and try? Then mebbe go back to the doctor if it doesna happen?” Jamie tipped her head up with a finger.

“Do you?” 

“I hadna considered the possibility so soon, but if ye’re okay with the idea, we could try. Why not? I’ll be 36 in May. I realize we havena been together verra long, but we’re no’ twenty-somethings with all the time in the world to wait either. I’ll admit that the thought of having a bairn with ye makes my heart fit to burst wi’ joy.”

“You’d do that?” Claire’s voice hitched as another tear traced a path down her cheek.

“Of course. Whatever ye want, Claire…whatever would ease yer heart. I’d welcome a wee one, but  _ mo chridhe _ , I want ye to understand one thing.” He paused, cupping her face with both his hands. “Ye’re mine,  _ mo nighean donn _ . Mine, now and forever. Nothing changes that. Even if we canna make a bairn of our own, we can always adopt, aye?” 

Claire pulled him close, resting her head on his shoulder.  _ God _ , this man…she still couldn’t quite believe that he was real. Like so many times before, the differences between how things were now and how they had been in her marriage to Frank were thrown into stark relief. It was like night and day. With Jamie, there was no shame, no blame, no guilt. Just  _ love. _ In the six months that she’d known him, Jamie had taken such tender care of her battered heart, allowing her the space she needed to face the issue in her own time. She was overjoyed at the thought of spending the rest of her life with him. Drawing in a deep breath, she pulled back, taking his hands in her own. 

“You have no idea what this means to me, Jamie. I do want to give you a child if it’s possible, but I don’t think I want the stress of tracking my cycles just yet. I don’t think I want to make love on a schedule. Let’s not rush things. We can give it til the summer. Get the semester behind us. I can always start tracking it then, and maybe see Dr. Rawlings again.”

He nodded, then leaned forward, pressing his forehead to hers. “However ye want to approach this is fine wi’ me. It’s the two of us now, remember?” 

She kissed him gently, their lips softly brushing together. “I love you, Jamie.”

“I love you too.” 

  
  


*****

  
  


An hour later, they were seated in the restaurant, waiting for their food. With the serious discussion out of the way, Claire’s mood had lightened as they talked about more ordinary topics—work, students, Adso’s latest antics…

“And then I moved my foot under the covers, and he just pounced on it! He’s such a fierce wee thing!” Jamie shook his head, laughing. They had both become quite attached to the little ball of fluff that shared their apartment. He was growing well, his skinny frame filling out nicely now that he had regular meals. 

“Oh, speaking of Adso,” Claire interjected, “I talked to Geillis and she’d be willing to drop by and feed him while we’re in Scotland.” 

“Perfect.” Jamie took a sip of his beer. “I booked the tickets this week too, so we’re good to go. I canna wait to introduce ye to Jenny and her family…show ye the farm and the land.”

Claire smiled, thinking not only of meeting Jamie’s family, but what he’d said in the library about intending to propose sometime after spring break. He most likely wanted her to meet his family before they made it official. So not only did she have the trip to look forward to, but also an official proposal at some point after they got home. A springtime proposal…and a wedding. Claire didn’t particularly care about having a big affair; with the loss of her uncle, she had no family. Jamie was her family now. Whatever he had in mind was fine with her. 

“So are ye up for the Black and White ball next weekend? We havena been dancing since Homecoming.” He looked up at her from his beer and she could see that he wanted her to say yes. He had that eager puppy look that she adored. Neither of them were very graceful on the dance floor, but as long as she could kick off her high heels, she was game. 

“Sure, why not. I already have a black satin dress in my closet, so I won’t have to shop for anything new. The weather’s been so dreary lately that it will be nice to get out and go do something fun.” 

“Aye.” He nodded. “That’s why they have it, ye ken. Winter Weekend is a wee bit of fun in the dark, grey part of the year. It’s no’ as big a deal as Homecoming. No’ so many alumni come, but it’s still a good time.” 

“Well then, it’s a date.” Claire raised her glass, then took a sip. She was ridiculously happy. First the dance, then spring break in Scotland, and then hopefully making their engagement public quite soon after that. She was surprised at how excited she was at the thought of everyone knowing their plans. Even though they had been an official couple since October, it just wasn’t the same as being  _ engaged.  _

The food arrived, interrupting her daydreams, but as she dug into her pasta, her thoughts drifted toward spring once again. 

  
  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not a medical doctor, so take anything that I say on that front with a grain of salt. My beta is a nurse, however, and she did give it a look-over, but obviously nothing here is meant as medical advice. 
> 
> I try to write my modern AU Jamie and Claire true to their canon counterparts as much as possible. In this fic, as in canon, Jamie does want children. He's a family man at heart.


	61. Doing This Properly: February 23, 2021

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jamie makes plans for the Black and White Ball

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As with all minis, this one is totally unbetaed, so if it's a hot mess, it's entirely my own doing. 
> 
> I'm now on Tumblr !! I can speak more freely there about my other writing. At the moment, I'm reposting all of First Year from the beginning with some extra commentary, a few chapters a day. When I get caught up, I plan to post new chapters both there and here, so do come find me if you're there. I'm whisky-and-jazz there (same as here only with dashes not underscores between the words).

[ ](https://ibb.co/fxjPpsr)

Tue 2/23/21 10:28 AM  
From: jfraser @ leoch.edu  
To: leochdance@ leoch.edu  
Re: B&W ball 

Thanks for being willing to help me out! I really appreciate it. It’s good luck that you did that number for your show last fall. DD is her favorite movie! It will be perfect. Plan for the dancers to do the main part as usual, then the group can follow me when I enter from the side. Can we do a rehearsal sometime this week? Pick someone to stand in for Dr. Beauchamp. Give me a day and time and I’ll be there. Just don’t say a word to you know who!! 

Thanks again,  
Dr. Jamie 

Dr. James Fraser  
Director, Student Academic Support Services  
Leoch College 

  
*****

Tue 2/23/21 10:45 AM  
From: jfraser @ leoch.edu  
To: DulcetTones@ leoch.edu  
Re: B&W ball 

You guys are amazing. Thank you SOOO much for helping me out. Yes, I want the same as on her birthday, but this time I want the full version, not the shortened one. We’ll dance to it after. Remember, not a word to her!!!! Be careful talking in labs too. I know a few of your guys have her for lab. 

Thank you!!   
Dr. Jamie

  
Dr. James Fraser  
Director, Student Academic Support Services  
Leoch College   
  


*****

Tue 2/23/21 11:10 AM  
From: jfraser @ leoch.edu  
To: panhelleniccouncil @ leoch.edu  
Re: B&W ball 

  
Rabbie, 

Thanks for organizing everything on your end with all the Greek orgs. I’ll take anyone who’s willing to help out. I’ll order the balloons and send you the information about pickup and you can send some of your people to do it. You’ll probably need several cars. And the champagne too. If someone could pick that up, it would be a help. And whatever else you buy—paint, glitter, whatever… and the champagne and balloons of course— save the receipts and give them to me and I’ll reimburse you personally. Don’t send them through the usual reimbursement channels. It’s not college money. Remember, keep it secret!! If anyone has her for class, be super careful!! I don’t want her getting suspicious. I’m rehearsing with the dancers later this week, but maybe one of you might want to sit on on it just so you'll know when your cue is for the group. 

Thanks a million,  
Dr. Jamie 

  
Dr. James Fraser  
Director, Student Academic Support Services  
Leoch College 

*****

  
Jamie thought he had everything under control—he’d contacted the various student groups that he’d recruited to help him with the proposal at the Black and White Ball. He had figured that a few students he knew well would want to help out, but he’d been overwhelmed with the response he’d gotten whenever he’d asked. Every group had said yes without the slightest hesitation. At least a dozen more students had either emailed or called asking if they could do anything else to make it special. It seemed that the whole student body was in on the project and it felt to him like the entire campus was humming with excitement. Students would pass him and give him knowing looks, secret thumbs up, or a wink and a nod when they thought no one was looking. Students he’d helped as part of his job in academic support were coming out of the woodwork, eager to do whatever he asked. He was overwhelmed and grateful in equal measure. 

After what had happened at the Homecoming dance, he and Claire had been the center of a lot of attention on campus from the students. They were the ‘cutest faculty couple’ as one student had put it. Now, if everyone could just keep their big mouths shut for just a couple days so Claire didn’t get suspicious, he might just be able to pull this off. As far as she knew, the dance was just a dance. She had assumed that they would make things official after they returned from spring break, and he hadn’t done anything to correct that notion. 

One last task still remained that didn't involve any students: drop by the jewelers on Friday and pick up the ring. He had finally decided on a design in white gold—one large diamond surrounded by wee ones. It had cost him a pretty penny, but he didn’t care. He had lived fairly frugally in the years since he’d been at Leoch. Now, it was time to open up his wallet and do this properly. He had no idea what her earlier engagement and wedding rings had looked like, but he had a sneaking feeling that her ex wasn’t the type to splurge on such a thing. The thought made him even more motivated to go all out. Every detail, from the ring to the proposal itself—everything had to be _special._ Everything had to be the _best_. No cutting corners. No slacking. He was still a wee bit embarrassed at how things had transpired in the library in spite of Claire’s assurances that she loved it, and he wanted to make it up to her. 

Late in the afternoon, he left campus with a spring in his step and a smile on his face, headed home to the love of his life. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Note for non-US readers: I can't recall if I've explained Greek life on US college campuses, so I'll do it now just to be sure. Fraternities (men) and sororities (women) are social groups with Greek letters for their names. Some students (not all) join early in their college career. Although they have a well-deserved reputation for partying, they also usually do some charitable service projects. The "Pan-Hellenic Council" that Jamie emails here is an over-arching organization for all fraternities and sororities that exists on some campuses to address issues common to Greek life on campus and to promote friendly relationships between the groups.


	62. The Black and White Ball: February 27, 2021

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Claire and Jamie attend the Winter Weekend's B&W Ball . Jamie has a few surprises for Claire.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for your support and kind words. I'm as excited for this chapter as you all are! 
> 
> I'm over on Tumblr now, under the name whisky-and-jazz (similar to here but with dashes). I'm doing a repost from the beginning with extra commentary. Come on over and find me if you're there.

[ ](https://ibb.co/WH15NGK)   
  


Jamie looked up as Claire stepped into the living room, dressed and ready to go to the Black and White Ball. She looked stunning in her black satin gown, its ruffle draped over one shoulder, the other one bare. She had smoothed out her wild curls, and taken more trouble with her makeup than usual.  _ God _ , she really was the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen in his life. It was all he could do to stare at her, jaw agape. 

“Come on, you.” She grinned. “Let’s go cut a rug.”

He suddenly felt anxious about her reaction to everything he had planned, in spite of knowing her answer would be yes. Swallowing the lump that had formed in his throat, he looked up at her. Worst case scenario, he could still call it all off with a few frantic texts. 

“I ken that ye’ve already said yes in the library, but when we do go public, would ye be okay with a wee bit of fuss?”

She arched an eyebrow at him. “What do you have in mind?”

He glanced down at his shoes. “I was just thinking it might be nice to…celebrate a wee bit…mebbe…that is, if it’s okay with you. I mean,I’ve never gotten engaged before. I want to do it properly.” Looking back up, he met her gaze with a tiny lopsided smile.

“I love you,” she replied with a warm smile of her own, looking down at him as she cupped his jaw in her hand, stroking her thumb over his scruff. “I want to be with you, to marry you. That’s enough for me. I don’t  _ need _ a lot of fuss, but whatever you decide to do will be perfect. If you want to have a party, we’ll throw a party and invite all our friends. If you want to do something quiet just for the two of us, that’s fine too. Do whatever you want. You already know what my answer will be.” She kissed his cheek and began to laugh. “And I don’t think you can possibly top what you’ve already done.” 

Breathing a sigh of relief as he stood up to leave, he double checked his pocket when she had her back turned.  _ Yes. _ It was still here, in its velvet box, ready for the big moment. He took another deep breath, running over the plan in his mind. Much depended on the help of the Leoch students, but he knew that overall, they were really great kids. Even that very morning, new volunteers had been asking him to do this or that. He had referred them to a few students who were coordinating the details.

More than anything, he wanted to show Claire in a tangible way that she was the center of his universe, and shout it from the rooftops to the rest of his world while he was at it. As occasionally happened, his thoughts wandered to her ex-husband, and he was once again incredulous. How could Frank have been so careless, so stupid? He was a fool. More than that, he had broken her heart, crushed her spirit, and convinced her that she was worthless. Jamie silently clenched his jaw, stuffing down his own loathing of the man so he could focus on the night ahead.

A short while later, he and Claire walked into the Cameron Hall ballroom, all decked out in the signature colors of the dance. They greeted the various faculty and administration they saw on the way, shaking hands and extending a smile. He noticed that Claire seemed to have become more comfortable with the type of meet-and-greet necessary for his future role as college president, and he smiled inwardly at the thought of the two of them hosting get-togethers at the president’s house. A memory bubbled up in his mind, unbidden, of the coat closet, and his cock twitched a wee bit. 

When he found the table that had been strategically placed and topped off with a “reserved” sign, Jamie guided Claire over to it, wiping the sweat from his palm before placing it at the small of her back.

“Are you sure this is ours?” she questioned. “None of the other tables are reserved.”

“Och, I know ye’re looking forward to the dance performance, and I wanted to get ye a good seat. I pulled a few strings wi’ the staff…slipped them a couple bucks when they were setting up.”

Claire beamed at him. “No one puts Dr. Jamie in a corner.” He winked back at her, flashing a smile, trying not to betray his nervousness.

They sat making small talk for a few minutes as people gathered, until finally a student took the microphone on the stage where the DJ had set up. 

“Welcome to the Leoch College Winter Weekend Black and White Ball! I’m Liz Wemyss from the Highland Flingers student dance troupe. By popular demand, we are going to be doing an encore performance from our fall recital—our take on the famous finale from  _ Dirty Dancing!  _ We hope you enjoy it, and have the time of your life!” 

As the lights dimmed and the music began, Jamie leaned over to Claire. “I’ll be right back—I need to make a quick trip to the men’s room.”

“Don’t be long,” she whispered, giving him a quick peck on the cheek.

As he quickly moved away from their table, the bowling ball that had taken up residence in his stomach lurched a little to the left.  _ Christ _ , what was he thinking? It was her favorite movie, but he couldn’t dance. He was a man of many talents, but this was not one of them. He was going to make a damned fool of himself. 

_ Deep breath, Fraser _ . 

The dancers had reassured him that he would be fine—he wasn’t attempting any overhead lifts after all, only some simple steps. A fancy walk, really. And they had spent hours rehearsing it. 

Jamie ducked around the edges of the ballroom to the meeting spot as the group of dancers spun and gyrated around the floor. Eventually, the attention focused on the lead couple in the spotlight who successfully performed the famous lift, to the delight of the onlookers who applauded heartily, while the rest of the dancers congregated off to the side near him. Nudging him and wishing him good luck, the dancers surrounded him, and he saw the leads finish their last twirl. 

The spotlight shifted. 

_ Christ. _

_ Ye can do this, Fraser. Ye remember the steps. Just move yer feckin’ feet. _

Stepping out in time to the music, he snapped his fingers as his feet stepped out—left, then right, dip the knees, roll the hips, step again—he moved forward, leading the group of dancers who had congregated behind him, all mimicking his steps, all moving across the dance floor to where Claire was seated. 

_ She did say ye’re her idiot… _

Finally, the light shifted so that he could see her face. 

She was smiling.  _ Thank Christ, _ she was smiling. Then laughing. And clapping in time with the music, offering up the occasional whoop of encouragement. 

Arriving at their table, he reached out a hand to her. She took it, and he led her a step or two onto the dance floor as the spotlight refocused on the two of them, leaving the other student dancers to fade back into the darkness. 

Leaning over, he scooped her up under her knees like he’d done a hundred times to carry her to their bed. But this time, as he lifted her up into his arms, he spun around in circles, moving back to the center of the dance floor as he did. After gently putting her down, he held on for a second to make sure she was steady on her feet before dropping down on one knee. Her eyes became wide and he realized that it wasn’t until that moment that she understood what he was doing. 

A hand reached out to him from the darkness to his left, passing him a microphone as the music died down. He took it, and looking up into her whisky-golden eyes, began to speak. 

“Claire, before I knew ye, I was living as half a man—my lonely soul stumbling around in a fog.” He felt his eyes misting, and swallowed hard against the ache in his throat. 

“At least that’s what it felt like. But then ye came into my life. Ye gave me light and love and joy—my Sorcha—and it was as though the sun came out on a cloudy day. Ye brought me back to life, Claire. Ye healed my wounds; ye made me whole again. You are my home. My heart. The keeper of my soul. My love…”

He paused a moment, and blinked as a tear escaped down his cheek. 

“And I humbly ask if you would do me the greatest honor I could possibly imagine, and be my wife. Will ye marry me, Claire?” Not breaking eye contact, he reached into his pocket and pulled out the velvet box, flipping it open with his thumb. 

Claire’s chin quivered as she whispered, “Yes.” 

He stood up, and after quickly passing back the microphone to a student, fumbled with the ring; his hands shook as he slipped it onto her finger.

“Yes,” she repeated, loud enough for the room to hear as he pulled her into his embrace. The crowd exploded into cheers, and he buried his face in her hair, lifting her to her tiptoes as she pressed against his chest. Then he kissed her. Properly. 

“ _ Christ _ , I love ye, Claire.” 

“I love you too.”

The house lights turned on, and they separated, each wiping a tear. The cacophony of raucous cheering went on and Claire looked around to see that a banner reading “Congratulations Dr. Jamie and Dr. Claire” had been spread out on the stage. Students came in with trays filled with glasses of champagne for everyone, offering the first glass to the couple, who were still embracing in the middle of the dance floor. Other groups marched in carrying hundreds of black and white balloons printed with “Jamie and Claire.” Some floated to the ceiling, while others bounced around the dance floor as they were released. 

The applause continued unabated as Colum stepped to the stage, picking up a microphone to address the room. “I want to be the first to offer my best wishes to the future president and first lady of Leoch College! Congratulations to you both!” Looking at Jamie, he continued, chuckling, “You must have been awfully certain that she would say yes!” 

Jamie glanced over at Claire, who raised a knowing eyebrow back at him. 

“Aye, I was!” he answered back loudly, as he wrapped his arm around Claire’s waist, giving a little squeeze as he did.

“A toast! To the happy couple, Dr. Jamie and Dr. Claire!” Colum raised his glass, followed by the crowd, before glancing to the side to see a student approaching. The student nodded to Colum, then took the microphone as the applause slowly died down. 

“Congratulations! I’m Roger Wakefield with the Dulcet Tones, the men’s a cappella group here on campus, and Dr. Jamie has asked us to serenade his future bride. I’ve got to say that we all had a suspicion that the two of them were serious last fall when he had us sing this same song to Dr. Claire for her birthday. It’s not exactly the type of song you sing to someone you just swiped right to on Tinder!” 

The crowd burst into laughter and he went on. 

“We always keep this song in our repertoire, but usually we sing it to students who are getting engaged, not faculty. So this is a first for us, but a happy first! So without further ado, let’s give these two lovebirds their first dance as husband and wife to be!” 

The lights dimmed, and the group began to sing as Jamie wrapped Claire in his arms and began to sway. 

_ I swear, by the moon and the stars in the sky... _

“Thank ye, Sassenach,” he murmured into Claire’s ear as they slowly moved to the music.

“Whatever for?” She looked up at him quizzically. “I should be thanking you…for all this, for the ring, for everything…it’s incredible, Jamie! I feel like a princess in a fairy tale.” 

“Thank ye for being my bride,” he answered. “And making me the happiest man in the world.” 

_ For better or worse, til death do us part, I’ll love you with every beat of my heart. I swear... _

He leaned over, catching her lips and pulling her into a gentle kiss as other couples joined them on the dance floor. Afterward, the assembled crowd gave them one last round of applause before they ventured back to their table. After sitting down, Jamie leaned over to Claire, speaking softly into her ear. 

“I hope ye were okay wi’ the wee bit of fun? I wouldna have done it if I hadna already known yer answer.” 

“It was amazing. You really surprised me. I wasn’t expecting anything until after break,” she murmured back at him, giving him a gentle kiss before continuing. “Never in my wildest dreams could I have imagined such a thing. How in the world did you get all the students involved?” 

“Och, I didna have to work verra hard at it.” He nuzzled her cheek with his nose. “They were all terrific—they wanted to make it special for ye, Claire. Ye’ve made quite an impression on them in just the short time ye’ve been here.” 

“I suspect it had to do with their affection for Dr. Jamie too.” 

Jamie replied with a Scottish noise, modestly deflecting her praise. 

The rest of the evening was a flurry of dancing, wine and greetings. It felt to Jamie like every single person in the room had offered their best wishes and congratulations. He’d probably shaken several hundred hands. Everyone fawned over Claire’s ring, and he couldn’t help but feel a bit proud, not only for pulling off such a crazy stunt, but also for the beautiful woman—his future  _ wife _ —on his arm. 

*****

Claire had been utterly gobsmacked by the evening. She didn’t think it was possible for Jamie to top his accidental library proposal, and yet somehow he had managed to do it. Back home again, after midnight, she slipped out of her dress and into her robe, headed to the bathroom. 

Her breath caught in her throat as she stepped into the darkened hallway, her gaze drawn to the man standing naked before the sink, brushing his teeth, unaware of her presence. She stared at him, framed by the dark of the doorframe. The light from the ceiling fixture danced over his shoulders, forming shadows on his muscles as he leaned against the counter. The curve of his buttocks swelled over his thick thighs, tapering down to his bare feet on the tile. She was transfixed, hypnotized at the sight of him. 

Jamie spat out the last of his toothpaste, rinsed his mouth with water, then glanced up, suddenly aware of her presence, a slow smile spreading over his face. 

She stepped forward into the light, dropping her robe to the floor as she did, and wrapped her arms around his shoulders, pressing herself against him. Tipping her head back, she reached up and kissed him, tasting mint on his tongue. 

“I want to be a Fraser,” she said, pulling back. 

“What?”

“I want to be a Fraser. I want to take your name.” 

“Ye dinna have to do that. Ye have publications under Beauchamp.” He kissed her forehead.

“I know I don’t have to. I want to. I can hyphenate if I have anything published in the future, but for everyday life, I want to do it. I know it’s old fashioned, but I don’t care.” She reached up to push a wayward auburn curl behind his ear. “It just feels right. I don’t have any family of my own anymore. You are my family now. Would you be okay with it?” 

“I would be honored.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you don't remember the famous final scene from Dirty Dancing, just cut and paste the link below. What Jamie did was the walk that begins at about the four minute mark, with the Leoch Dancers following behind him. 
> 
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3jQMMCq4kmc
> 
> If you aren't familiar with the song that the a cappella group sang, you can see it by cutting and pasting the link below. This is the original video. 
> 
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=25rL-ooWICU
> 
> I hope you enjoyed the "official" proposal!


	63. The Morning After: February 28, 2021

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Geneva ponders, plans, plots and schemes...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mea culpa!! I realized this morning that I did not acknowledge my fantastic beta for the last chapter (and this one too), Danielle!! (aka Smashingteacups) She makes sure that Jamie doesn't trip over himself and his words. Bless her. 
> 
> You're welcome btw for not lumping this in with yesterday's chapter. I didn't want to ruin the mood... but the plot (and the show) must go on. 
> 
> TW- discussion of infertility

[ ](https://ibb.co/ZWbJfS5)

Geneva sipped her coffee, mulling over the events of yesterday evening. She recalled watching Jamie and Claire as they walked across the dance floor away from her. She had briefly greeted both of them, along with practically every other person in the room, but their interaction was deliciously awkward. Claire was stupid and oblivious of course, but Jamie? She chuckled to herself, recalling his face. 

She loved to watch him squirm. In truth, she hadn’t thought about him at all until these past few weeks. When they parted at the termination of their agreement, she had been sick of him and his holier-than-thou attitude. She had held him to his bargain, and enjoyed his physical attributes and skill, but she never understood how he could make her feel like _she_ was the slutty one when _he_ had been the one to offer himself and his services. 

In the intervening years, she had married a wealthy hedge fund manager from the city, but the marriage was all but over. Truth be told, it hadn’t been much of a love match even from the beginning. Geneva was his arm candy and nothing more, and it wasn’t long before she’d realized it. Now that she had filed for divorce, the only thing standing between her and her freedom was some final paperwork. The foundation kept her busy, both the above-board and under-the-table sides. She had no qualms about it; it was only money, after all. No one _really_ got hurt, and it funded her lifestyle. She didn’t need Ellesmere’s money. She had plenty of her own. There was only one thing she truly wanted…

In any case, she’d never expected to see Jamie Fraser again. It was a surprise to see him at the board meeting in January, and an even bigger surprise to learn that he was in line for the presidency of Leoch College. But the best part by far was his reaction when he first laid eyes on her. He’d gone so shockingly pale, and had refused to meet her eye. Clearly, no one had any idea of their past together. 

She had only intended to toy with him a little. Mess with his head. Dangle some money in front of his girlfriend’s department, only to pull it away at the last minute. Tease him with some scholarships for all those poor, underprivileged students he seemed to care so much about. Make him grovel a little for it. She loved it when people begged her for money. 

But that was before last night when he had put on that ridiculous, over-the-top show, rubbing her nose in the fact that his life had turned out so fucking magnificent...playing at being the perfect couple in love when they both knew full well that there was no such thing in real life. What he seemed to have conveniently forgotten was that he wouldn’t be where he was if it wasn’t for her. And now he had the nerve to treat her like dirt? 

Oh, _hell no._

Fuck. His fiancée was probably pushing forty. No wonder she was infertile—the old, dried up hag. Now _that_ was a stroke of luck, hearing that little tidbit over lunch a few weeks ago. Because of it, Geneva knew just how to get to him…and get something else she wanted anyway. 

For all his smugness, he was still quite handsome. And smart. And he would do nicely for her purposes. 

Quite nicely. 

Even better, it would put this _Claire_ in her place. Humiliate the bitch. 

No, Geneva hadn’t planned on anything beyond teasing him a little, but now? She knew just what to do. And it would be absolutely fucking brilliant. 

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Cue dramatic music...


	64. Unavoidable: March 2, 2021

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Geneva contacts Jamie.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm glad you all enjoyed the public proposal chapter! I had a lot of fun with it. Thank you as always for your kindness and support of my writing. I deeply appreciate all of you! 
> 
> This is just a wee thing. Look for more later this week.

[ ](https://ibb.co/wRL2wGf)

Tue 3/2/21 1:45 PM  
From: gdunsaney @ dunsaneyfound.org   
To: jfraser @ leoch.edu  
Re: Meeting

Hi Jamie, 

I’d like to get together to meet with you about the scholarships and grants from the foundation. What’s a good day and time? 

Really looking forward to working with you again. 

Best,  
G. 

  
Geneva Dunsaney Ellesmere  
President, Dunsaney Foundation  
www.dunsaneyfound.org 

  
*****

Tue 3/2/21 2:15 PM  
From: jfraser @ leoch.edu  
To: gdunsaney @ dunsaneyfound.org   
Re: Meeting

Ms. Ellesmere: 

I’m sure we can work out a time to get together, perhaps with a few other interested board members. We’re on break next week and I’ll be out of town. Perhaps we can schedule something after the semester resumes on the 15th. 

  
Sincerely,  
James Fraser 

Dr. James Fraser  
Director, Student Academic Support Services  
Leoch College 

*****

Tues 3/2/21 3:07 PM  
From: gdunsaney @ dunsaneyfound.org   
To: jfraser @ leoch.edu  
Re: Meeting

Jamie, 

I’m afraid that won’t do. When are you free this Friday? I can come by your office. I really want to get things started. 

G. 

  
Geneva Dunsaney Ellesmere  
President, Dunsaney Foundation  
www.dunsaneyfound.org 

  
*****

  
Jamie sighed. Apparently this had to happen sooner rather than later. He sent off a quick WhatsApp message to Hal. 

  
JAMMF21: She wants to meet on Friday. She’s insistent. Won’t put it off until after break. 

HGrey72: I’ll message Q. He may want to meet with you beforehand. 

JAMMF21: I’ll set it up with G. for Friday afternoon. Keep in touch. 

*****

Tue 3/2/21 3:30 PM  
From: jfraser @ leoch.edu  
To: gdunsaney @ dunsaneyfound.org   
Re: Meeting

Ms. Ellesmere: 

I can spare you a half hour at 3:30 PM on Friday. I have another meeting at 4 but hopefully that’s enough time to discuss things. Come to my office, Lallybroch 312. 

Sincerely,  
James Fraser

Dr. James Fraser  
Director, Student Academic Support Services  
Leoch College 


	65. Preparations for a Meeting: March 4, 2021

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jamie prepares for his meeting with Geneva.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As with all minis, this chapter is un-betaed, so I totally own this hot mess. Dinna blame Danielle.

[ ](https://ibb.co/JmvFSDp)

Jamie walked in to the nondescript office building on a side street in Ithaca. He did _not_ like this one bit, but he had no choice. After pushing the button for the elevator, he stepped inside and rolled his head left and right, trying to work the knot of stress out of his neck. The door opened, and he turned left, then walked three doors down. As he entered the office suite, a middle-aged receptionist looked him over from his head to his toes before she raised an eyebrow and spoke. 

“Mr. Fraser?”

“Aye.” 

“Go right in. They’re expecting you.”

She nodded with her head toward a door off to the side. Jamie thanked her and walked in, shutting the door behind him. Hal and John were there, along with another man who Jamie didn’t recognize. Hal looked up and smiled.

“Good to see you, Jamie,” Hal remarked with a nod. “I’m glad you contacted me. This is Harry Quarry. He’s from the FBI.”

The man reached out his hand to shake Jamie’s.

“Well, technically, I work for both the FBI and FinCEN—that’s the agency that deals with financial crimes such as money laundering. But no matter…the work is the work. You’ve been contacted by Ms. Dunsaney I understand? And you’re meeting her tomorrow?”

“Aye.”

  
“Well,” Harry went on in a matter-of-fact tone that attested to his authority, “we’ll need to get you wired up for the occasion. We’ve had approval to do this for months now. We've been monitoring her other modes of communication. She’s mostly been busy with her pending divorce…but reaching out to you personally? About scholarships? That’s a conversation we want to hear. We’re fairly certain she’s cultivating Leoch as another front institution for the foundation. The more colleges she has as foundation affiliates, the more money she can launder through fake student profiles.” 

John caught Jamie’s eye and offered him the slightest of smiles. Jamie inhaled sharply, resigned to his fate.

“Will I have to see ye tomorrow again to do this?”

“No,” Hal answered. “Harry will show you how the equipment works and how to wear the microphone and all. We don’t want to bring you here more often than necessary. We know when your meeting is. Once you turn on the mic, it will transmit to us on a secure channel.”

Jamie nodded. Harry went on to show him how to position the microphone under his shirt. Thankfully, it wasn’t too complicated and after a couple trials, he felt comfortable enough to set it up on his own. The logistical part complete, Harry gestured for everyone to sit down. 

“Now, Fraser…” he began, “what I need you to do is to be non-committal. I don’t care what she offers. You don’t accept it, but you don’t reject it either. What we need is time. I’ve got my people working on this, and we’re close, but we’re not ready to move in just yet. So you string her along…act interested, but don’t commit. She needs to believe that Leoch is ripe for the picking. She needs to be kept distracted—her attention far away from what’s actually happening. You can’t let on that you know anything about any type of investigation.” 

“Aye.”

John laughed a bit, apparently attempting to lighten the mood. “Jamie has a fantastic poker face. I’ve played chess with him enough to know that he can be plotting ten moves ahead and you’d never know it to look at him.”

Jamie chuckled.

“Right,” Hal interjected. “Are we good to go?”

Jamie’s expression became more serious as he looked over at Harry.

“I want ye to understand one thing.” He stared directly at the agent. “I’ll do whatever I can to help with the investigation, but my primary interest is in protecting the college. I willna do anything that puts Leoch or its students at risk. I willna risk losing legitimate funding for our students from other sources by getting the college tangled up in anything illegal.”

“Understood.” Harry nodded. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For the record, I am NOT an expert on any type of investigation! It's a story! Just go with it. They dinna pay me enough to research for hours to write a chapter. 
> 
> Harry Quarry is a canon character that shows up a lot in the Lord John novellas, and makes a brief appearance in the main books/show. He was involved with espionage and lots of secret activities, so it felt right to make him an agent here.


	66. Indecent Proposal: March 5, 2021

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Geneva meets with Jamie in his office. Harry and Hal listen in.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to my beautiful beta Danielle, who is unfailingly supportive of my wee efforts here, and always sorts out my wayward punctuation. 
> 
> And thank YOU, dear reader, for sticking with me so long. For any interested, I'm on Tumblr now, reposting all chapters with extra commentary until we get caught up to real time. Find me over there as whisky-and-jazz 
> 
> And, I've had an interesting day. Drop over and visit me on Twitter- Newbie Becca @Avg_OL_Fangirl

[ ](https://ibb.co/NTXGyrV)

**3:30 PM, Lallybroch Hall**

“Knock, knock!” Geneva’s smiling face peeked around the door frame, and Jamie steeled himself for whatever was to come. Reaching into his pocket, he silently pushed the button on the recorder/transmitter. Harry had assured him that everything was working properly and all he had to do was to press it when the time came. 

“Hey,” Jamie replied, forcing a smile and trying to keep his voice steady as he gestured toward a chair. “Good to see ye. Have a seat.” 

Before she sat, Geneva started to close his office door. 

“Och,” he interrupted, “ye dinna have to do that. I sometimes get students coming by who have a quick question. I like to be accessible.” 

“Oh, I don’t think you’ll have too many dropping by late on a Friday afternoon.” She closed the door and sat. “Besides, what I want to discuss with you isn’t for the ears of the general public.” 

“Geneva, I dinna...” He stammered, trying to think of something to say to steer the conversation away from where it seemed to be headed.

“It’s far more…personal.” She settled back into the chair and crossed her legs, her left foot lazily bobbing in the air.

_ Shite.  _

“I want to build on our previous relationship,” Geneva continued without preamble.

Jamie tried to keep his voice even and calm as he changed the subject. “Ye ken that I’m engaged to be marrit. It canna go back to the way it used to be.” Under his desk, his leg bounced furiously. Barely able to hold himself still from the waist up, it felt like all his nervous energy had found its way to his lower extremities. He had told John about what had happened with Geneva, but Hal and Harry knew nothing. “Besides, don’t ye want to discuss scholarships? That’s what yer email said…”

“Oh, we’ll eventually get to that. Right now, I want to talk about us.”

“Geneva, I dinna mean to be rude, but there is no ‘us’ to discuss.”

“Oh, I think there is.” She glanced down at her nails, apparently admiring her manicure, before looking back up at him. “I’m starting a new chapter of my life, Jamie. You know I’m divorcing Ellesmere. I’m busy with my work at the foundation. I have a full social life. But there’s still something missing.” Looking him dead in the eyes, she informed him matter-of-factly, “I want a child.” 

“Geneva, I willna—” 

“Oh, no. You misunderstand me. I don’t want to sleep with you. Been there, done that. It was nice enough, but I’ve had better. No, sweetie. What I want from you is your  _ genes.” _

Try as he might to school his features, Jamie couldn’t help it when his eyes grew wide. “Ye want what?” 

“Your genes. Your DNA.” Her mouth curled into a smirk. “More to the point, I want your sperm.”

Jamie tried his best to compose himself, certain his blood pressure had skyrocketed. Under the table, his leg continued to bounce like a rabbit hopped up on a few dozen espressos. 

Geneva went on, “I know your  _ fiancée _ can’t give you children. She’s infertile. Were you aware of that? You two should talk…” She raised both eyebrows, and paused a moment before continuing, “And I know how much you want kids. You told me once, remember? Well, I want a child, and I want you to be the biological father. You’re smart, physically attractive… Let’s face it, you’ve got good genes, Jamie. I thought about going to a sperm bank, but that’s so impersonal. Why should I do that when you’ve got everything I want.” 

“Geneva, I—” 

“And before you say no, let me add this.” She uncrossed her legs and leaned forward, her eyes trained on his. “If you don’t, I will tell your  _ fiancée  _ all about us and our little arrangement—how you offered to sleep with me to get the funding to finish your Ph.D. How it went on for a whole semester. How I know each and every inch of your body as well as she does. Maybe even better…” 

Jamie could feel himself growing pale as his palms began to sweat at the thought of Harry and Hal listening in somewhere nearby. Geneva leaned back again and began to look around his office absentmindedly, taking in the various pictures and framed degrees on the walls before returning her attention to him, her tone suddenly casual. 

“All you need to do is to jack off into a cup a few times until you get the job done. Easy-peasy. I’m sure your swimmers are top notch. It won’t take long. I’m testing myself for my fertile times, I haven’t gotten any doctors involved.  _ I’m  _ not the one with a fertility problem. I’ll get a good turkey baster and we’ll be all set.” 

_ What fresh hell was this? _

Jamie had been prepared to deal with talk of the foundation…of scholarships…grants and the like. He was prepared to be friendly, act interested, string her along. But this?  _ This?  _

_ Christ... _

He recalled Harry’s instructions. She needed to be kept occupied. Distracted. Her attention needed to be away from any whiff of the investigation that was slowly closing in on the foundation’s shady finances. 

But nothing they’d discussed in their briefing had prepared him for this. Geneva’s words were like a knife twisting in his heart. He wanted children, always had. He’d imagined having a large family someday, and he must have said something casually to her over those months, never thinking anything of it. But, oh  _ God _ … the thought that she had somehow learned about Claire’s deepest, most private pain wrenched him to the depths of his soul. How could she possibly know about Claire’s difficulties? Was she spying on her? On the two of them? 

In all the years since that fateful semester, Jamie hadn’t given much attention to Geneva herself. His loathing had been directed inward; his struggles were always with himself, not her. He really hadn’t given  _ her  _ a second thought. But now? A fierce rage sprang up inside him, a fire in his belly, and he knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that he would do  _ anything  _ to protect Claire, to keep her safe. 

And her offer? It made him sick to his stomach. He would rather  _ never _ father a biological child than father one with her. If he had a child, it would be with Claire. Period. Full stop. 

But the best way to keep her away from Claire was to make sure that the investigation succeeded. The best possible outcome would be if Geneva spent the next decade or so locked away in a federal penitentiary. And the best way to make  _ that  _ happen was to do exactly as Harry had said. String her along. Keep her distracted. 

His Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed. 

“I dinna ken how ye know about Claire, and I dinna want to know.” He schooled his face into an impassive mask. “But I admit that ye’re no’ wrong. I do want a bairn of my own.” 

Geneva continued to stare at him, fingering the long necklace she wore over her blouse. His mind was spinning, trying to think of what to say next. He didn’t want to agree outright, obviously, but he needed to dangle the possibility to string her along, as Harry had instructed him.  _ Christ _ , now they all knew. 

After an awkward pause, Geneva broke the silence. “I’ll tell you what. I’d rather we do this as friends. It will be better for our child if we’re friends. I’ve got a couple weeks before I’ll need the first batch—time enough for you to get comfortable with the idea of becoming a daddy. How about I check back with you after break? We can work out the details then.”

Jamie nodded, clenching his fist under the desk. 

“Excellent. I’ll be in touch. We’re going to make such a  _ beautiful  _ baby, Jamie. I just know it.” 

And with that, Geneva stood up, turned on her heels, opened the door, and walked out of his office. Jamie pressed the button again, turning off the recording, and slumped back in his chair, feeling sick to his stomach. 

  
  
  


*****

A few minutes later a message came through on  _ WhatsApp: _

  
  
HQ: Meet us in the park where you met J and H. 15 minutes 

JAMMF21: ok 

  
  
  


*****

  
  
  


Jamie drove once again into the deserted park, back behind the soccer fields to the spot where he had first met with John and Hal a few weeks ago. There was a large black SUV already there, waiting for him. He pulled in next to it, and saw Harry Quarry in the driver’s seat, signaling him to come over. Hal was seated next to him. Jamie got out of his car, and climbed in the back seat of the SUV. 

“Where’s John?” 

Hal turned around. “You do realize that John isn’t part of any investigation? He tags along when he can because of you, and I mostly let him, but he has no role here. He doesn’t have clearance.” 

“Mmphm.”

Hal raised an eyebrow to him. “Is it true? What she said? That you two had an arrangement back in the day?”

“Aye.” Jamie kept his face neutral. “It’s no’ something I’m proud of, but aye. It happened as she said.” 

Harry chuckled, still facing forward, looking up and catching Jamie’s eye in the rear view mirror. “You dawwwg! Way to fund your research! I’ve got to hand it to you, Fraser. You had me fooled. I really thought you were a by-the-book kind of guy. Damn, was I wrong... And her current offer? Shit. That’s hilarious.” 

_ Christ.  _ Did he have to keep talking about it? 

Harry shook his head, trying to stop laughing before Hal mercifully interjected, “She didn’t say anything about the foundation.”

“Right,” Harry answered, finally calming himself down. “She didn’t. That recording, entertaining as it was, gave us nothing useful.” 

“I did what ye said…I didn’t commit to anything.”

Harry turned around in his seat. “You did good, Fraser. Seriously.” He paused for a moment. “You know, this might actually be better for us in the long run.” 

“How?” Hal asked, a quizzical look on his face. 

“It’s a perfect distraction,” Harry replied. “It will keep her focus away from the foundation. We’ve cultivated a few of her employees over the past year as assets, and it’s starting to yield fruit. I’ve got people smuggling records out to us. Decades’ worth of records from their offline, off-the-record computers are slipping out the door under her nose on flash drives even as we speak.” 

Jamie nodded, appreciating the gravity and precariousness of the situation, more determined than ever to help it succeed. 

“It also helps you keep her trust,” Harry continued. “If she thinks she’s got you by the balls, literally, she isn’t likely to consider you a threat. You can gently start to broach the subject of the foundation. She might just open up to her baby-daddy.” 

“But ye canna think I’m actually going to cooperate with her?! Ye canna possibly mean for me to—” 

“Cool your jets, Romeo,” Harry interrupted. “No, you don’t have to deliver the actual goods. I’m sure I can have our lab whip up a convincing substitute. It’s a good thing she isn’t seeing a doctor. It would be a lot harder to produce something that would pass muster under a microscope. And in the meantime, you can keep wearing your wire and get her talking. We’re close, Fraser. You won’t have to do it for long.” 

“What about Claire?” Jamie finally said out loud what had been on his mind all along. “Geneva  _ knew _ things, personal things about Claire. It wasn’t anything I didn’t already know, but how in the hell did  _ she _ know? We havena discussed it in public at all! But she  _ knew _ .” 

Clenching his jaw, he pressed on, “I dinna want Claire to be anywhere near this. From what ye’ve told me, Geneva is involved with some pretty dangerous people. I willna risk Claire’s safety. I’ll do what ye want, but I want her protected. I want someone watching Claire 24/7.”

“I’m sure that could be arranged,” Harry said matter-of-factly. 

“Good.” Jamie nodded. “Because that’s a deal-breaker for me. I’ll do what ye want, but I willna put Claire in any danger.” 

“I’ll post someone outside your apartment 24/7, and I’ll get a few young agents who can pass for students to tail her when she’s on campus, and a few more for when she’s out and about.” 

“If they’re young enough to look like students, just how young are they?” Jamie asked. It wouldn’t do to have some green new recruit responsible for watching over Claire. 

“We tap Navy SEALs for this work,” Harry answered, his voice betraying a bit of pride. “Trust me, they may look like kids, but they’re good. She’ll be safe. I promise.”

“We’re headed to Scotland for spring break tomorrow. Do ye think we need anyone over there?” 

“No, I don’t think so. She only just offered this ‘proposal’ of hers, and you’ve barely talked to her otherwise. None of her contacts have any reason to believe that you might be a threat.” Harry shook his head. “Go. Have fun. Get your mind off things. We’ll be ready when you get back, not only with your security, but with your…very special gift…for Geneva.” Harry chuckled.

With the plan in place and his heart in his throat, Jamie got out of the vehicle and went back to his own. 

_ Christ _ …what the hell had he gotten himself into? 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Buckle up, buttercup!! Things are getting interesting!! 
> 
> Next week is spring break in Scotland, so we'll have a wee breather before all the shite hits the fan back at Leoch College.


End file.
